


The Glastonbury Sprite and the London Spy

by Flantastic



Category: James Bond (Craig movies), James Bond (Movies), London Spy
Genre: 00QAD - Freeform, Anal Sex, Angst, Break Up, Canonical Character Death, Heavy Angst, M/M, Major Character Injury, Oral Sex, Recreational Drug Use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-24
Updated: 2017-03-05
Packaged: 2018-09-26 17:55:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 25,559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9914201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Flantastic/pseuds/Flantastic
Summary: A chance encounter at the Glastonbury Festival leads to a passionate relationship between James Bond and Thomas “Q” Holt.When James's true identity is suddenly revealed and it abruptly ends their relationship, James realises that he is in love and he will do everything he can to try to prove it to Q.  Even if that means digging into his twin brother’s past.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote the first chapter of this after coming home from the 2016 Glastonbury Festival. Every year my partner and I try to go if we can and every year we watch the BBC's highlights when we return. This fic was born when I kept seeing the same stock footage of the crowds on the opening credits and I kept noticing a sensibly-dressed festival goer who looked so uncannily like Daniel Craig my brain asked "Wouldn't it be funny if 007 went every year...?"

James was sure that more than a few eyebrows would be raised if the general population of MI6 ever found out the truth.

It wasn’t as if he was ashamed of it as such, it just never really came up.  The current M was aware, as was his predecessor.  He had to submit his travel plans whenever he decided to go on annual leave, after all.  Moneypenny knew, he was sure.  She always smiled knowingly at him when he managed to take his fortnight’s holiday in mid-June but she never asked him about it and he was grateful to her for that.

In a strange way, Glastonbury Festival was private.  It was _his_.

He’d gone there most years since his early twenties.  What was once a wild, boozy weekend with his best Navy mates from wherever he was stationed at the time had morphed over the years into something he did alone.  He always made sure he got there early.  Some years he would hike in, other years he would take a car or cycle, sometimes he’d take a bus but always he would make sure he was one of the first in through the gates.  Once in past the security checkpoint he would hike straight to the top of Kidney Mead and pitch his tent.  He wasn’t too bothered by having a view of the Pyramid Stage but he liked the fact that he could hear whatever band was playing there from the comfort of his sleeping bag if he chose.

Once his tent was pitched he would sit with his mini guide, his full-size magazine guide and (more-recently) his mobile phone app and go through the thousands of acts on offer.  He would meticulously note down everything he was interested in seeing but never really stuck to his plans.  That was one of the things he loved about Glastonbury.  The element of surprise.  It was one of the few times in his life that he felt relaxed.  Open to new experiences and unexpected things.  Fun.

At another festival he might have stood out but at Glastonbury literally anything went.  He was certain he looked odd, a lone man, smartly dressed in his linen shorts and polo shirt, stout walking boots on his feet and a well-stocked rucksack on his back amongst all the young revellers and free spirits but nobody ever gave him a second glance.  He was well-prepared.  The rucksack was filled with everything he needed to combat the elements.  A pair of trousers and a jumper for if it got cold in the evening.  A pair of waterproof trousers and a jacket for showers.  An army poncho for the heavier rain and a folding stool for when the ground was wet.  He carried sun cream, a water bottle, wet wipes, toilet roll and hand sanitizer.  His money was hidden away in a pouch which was tucked under his belt.

He wandered from dawn until dusk and into the early hours of the morning throughout the festival.  He was anonymous.  Weaponless.  Ordinary.

In short, he loved it.

~00Q~

Although he liked to catch his favourite bands if they played there, he liked it even more when there was a lull in the acts that he wanted to see.  Friday night was one such lull so after he’d watched a band on the Pyramid Stage he went wandering. 

He visited West Holts and had a couple of pints of Brothers Cider while listening to a crazy band from Japan.

He went to Avalon and sang along with a raucous covers band who all looked like pirates.

He sat in a small tent and drank chai listening to a truly awful duo, whose caterwauling was powered by a sweaty man’s frantic pedalling on the PA’s cycle-powered generator.

As the sun set his feet took him up to the Stone Circle.  Some of the people there had already set a fire blazing so he set up his little stool and hunkered down by the dancers and the fire jugglers to watch the festival at large light up below them.

There were easily two dozen people dancing around the fire.  There was no music to speak of unless you counted the drums which beat in a fast rhythm.  There was laughter, shrieking and the waft of weed being smoked.  James took off his rucksack and set it between his ankles so he could extract his water bottle.  He took a swig out of it.  The cider in it was warm but it still tasted good.  Even though it had started to rain again he felt his shoulders begin to relax.

The dancers were a mixed bunch but one in particular caught his eye.  He couldn’t have been more than twenty-five.  He wore a black vest top which hung off him loosely.  The brightly coloured trousers he wore hung low on his hips and the cuffs had been rolled up to his calves.  He was barefoot and didn’t seem to care that he was splashing through puddles of muddy water as he danced.  His tousled dark hair bounced as he tossed his head and his white teeth flashed in the glowing firelight.  He looked like a sprite, lost in the hedonistic joy of the dance.   James found himself hypnotised by the sway of the young man’s slim hips.  He tried to stop looking at him but he couldn’t.  His eyes kept getting drawn back to him.  He was enthralling.

The young man suddenly noticed him and smiled.  He looked almost coy as he slowed his dancing and walked over to James.  He held his hand out to him silently, his hips still swaying as he smiled and tried to encourage James up to dance.  James laughed and shook his head.

“I don’t.”

The sprite cocked his head.

“You should.”

“Oh really?”  James laughed. “But then who would watch you?”

The young man seemed to consider his words and then shrugged and crouched down, squatting beside James.

“Is it fun to just watch?”  He asked, wrapping his arms around his knees.  “I’ve never tried.”

“I find that hard to believe.”  James remarked as he offered his bottle to him.  “I can’t imagine there are many things you haven’t tried.”

James’s sprite laughed as he took the bottle.

“You might have a point there…”

He took a swig and wrinkled his nose.

“Not a fan of cider?” James asked.

“Not a fan of alcohol.  I can think of better ways to lose myself.”

“Oh?”

He grinned.

“Shall I show you?  Would you like to come and lose yourself with me?”

James’s mouth felt suddenly dry at the offer and the possibilities that it hinted at.  He took another drink and nodded.

“It would be my pleasure.”

~00Q~

It started to rain more heavily as they walked down through the Green Fields and into the field of tipis.  James had never felt more out of place as he walked down past the craft and healer tents and small cafes dressed in his practical clothing.  The young man had taken his hand and led him, unerringly avoiding the worst of the mud underfoot.

There were two types of tipi in that part of the festival, the corporate, mass erected type, hired out to townies wanting to experience the novelty of sleeping in one and the individually owned type, used by the type of people who slept under canvas regularly and admired their practicality.  James wasn’t surprised when they went into one of the latter.

It was huge, easily big enough to sleep a dozen people and it had been carefully lined with waterproofing and soft bedding.  James paused to take off his boots at the door as his new friend went to the fire in the centre.  It had died down but he added a couple of logs until it blazed merrily.

“This is my uncle’s tent.” He explained as he sat cross-legged on one of the bedrolls and took a canvas wallet out of the sleeping bag which lay on it.  “He and his friends run a burger place in Block Nine with my brother.  They work all night so I get the place all to myself.”  He stripped off his damp vest and revealed his thin, pale chest.  He patted the spot next to him.  James left his boots and rucksack just inside the door and came over to him, sitting where he’d been told to.  “Are you always so obedient?” The young man laughed.

“I am when I’m so intrigued by someone.”

James’s answer seemed to surprise him.

“Intrigued?  Am I intriguing?  How thrilling!”

James smiled.

“For you or me?”

“Both of us of course!”

“How about you become a little less intriguing?  Tell me your name.”

Instead of answering he opened the canvas wallet which now rested in his lap and drew out a packet of kingsize cigarette papers.  He extracted one from the pack and laid it on his thigh.

“My big brother Danny always laughs at me when I use these.  He reckons I’m not being authentic by not building my spliffs with loads of smaller papers.    I reckon he’s a snobby twat though.”

James laughed as the lad’s nose scrunched up again.

“You’ve just changed the subject.  Why won’t you tell me your name?”

“Why do you need to know?”  He asked, added a large amount of greenery to the tobacco he’d just laid out on the paper.

“Because I can’t just call you ‘sprite’.”  He looked up, confused.  James laughed, suddenly a little embarrassed.  “You looked like a fairy dancing by the fire.  An elemental of some kind.” He explained.

“You can call me that.  I like it.  _Sprite_ …”

He finished rolling the joint and licked slowly up the sticky edge of the paper.  James watched his pink tongue and felt a frisson of desire.  He was sure the lad noticed when he grinned at him.  He tore a strip off a piece of thin cardboard that he had in the pouch and rolled it between his thumb and forefinger before inserting into one end of the joint.  He popped it into his mouth and took out a lighter.  He leaned back, his chest expanding as he drew in the smoke.  He let out the drag, blowing out the smoke in a steady stream.  He coughed slightly and chuckled as he tried to pass it to James.  He shook his head.

“I don’t really...”

The sprite raised an eyebrow and tilted his head.

“Don’t you?  What, never?” He sounded disappointed.  “Why not?”

“I don’t do drugs.”

“Yes you do.  You drink alcohol.  Alcohol’s a drug.”

“You know what I mean.”

“Not really.” He said, taking another drag.  “You really should try some.  Danny gets me this.  Lord alone knows where he gets it but it’s like rocket fuel.  There’s nothing quite like a decent bit of skunk.  Here...”

He crawled over to James and knelt up beside him.  Taking another drag he placed a finger under James’s chin and tilted his face up.  James opened his mouth to ask him what he thought he was doing when he lightly covered James’s lips with his own and exhaled.  Taken aback by the young man’s forwardness he breathed in some of the smoke.  It was smoother than he’d anticipated and he inhaled more deeply.  He didn’t smoke cigarettes anywhere near as much as he used to but he still knew how to hold a toke.  He slid his hand up into the man’s hair and moaned as his tongue slipped into his mouth.  He kissed him back, his other hand finding his naked waist.  He slumped into him until he was almost sitting in James’s lap.  He broke off the kiss and grinned.

“See?  Smooth but kicks like a mule.”

James laughed, feeling the like the buzz had set in already.

“Are you talking about the weed or the kiss?”

James’s sprite laughed.

“There _is_ one problem with smoking weed though.” The young man admitted after he’d taken another drag and tilted his head back to let it out slowly.

“And what’s that?” James asked, running his hand down his naked back.

Catching the joint between his lips he caught up James’s other hand and pressed it into his crotch.  He was hard and James’s fingers automatically closed around him through the thin cotton of his trousers.

“I just get so fucking horny.”

He took another drag and pressed his lips to James’s again.  This time James met him eagerly, breathing in the smoke as he rolled them onto the bed.  He wasn’t sure what was making him more lightheaded.  The high-quality pot or the beautiful young man currently writhing under him.  James pulled up onto his knees and dragged his trousers off him revealing skinny, surprisingly hairy, white legs.  They fell open and James devoured the sight of his hard cock nestling in its shock of dark pubes.  He immediately dropped down and licked across its glistening head.  For such a crusty-looking traveller he tasted surprisingly clean and James indulged himself fully, drawing most of his cock into his mouth until it brushed against the back of his throat and his eyes began to water.

When he’d got up that morning it would never have occurred to him that he might end the day with another man’s cock in his mouth.  And such a gorgeous young man.  He hollowed his cheeks just enough to form a slight vacuum around the head and then teased it with his tongue, moaning quietly at the splash of pre-come it earned him.  He hummed with satisfaction and did it again, pushing his tongue in under his foreskin and making him groan.  He looked up to see his sprite looking back at him, his eyes half-closed as he lazily carried on smoking.  James grinned and pulled off him with an obscene ‘pop’.  He crawled up over him and took a drag when he was offered the joint.

“You sweet little hellion.  Did you plan this?  Did you go out tonight searching for a man to suck you?”

He grinned up at him.

“I never think that far ahead.” He shuddered as James dropped his head to lightly suckle on his neck. “But when I saw you… I saw the way you were looking at me… I wanted you…”

James pulled back a little and regarded him seriously.

“What exactly is it you want me to do?”  He wanted to be sure they were on the same page…

The young man tossed the butt of his joint into the fire and smiled.  He really had the loveliest face.

“Will you fuck me please?  Would you like to?”

“I’d love to,” James admitted, “but are you sure?”  The sprite looked confused. “I don’t even know your name and you’ve been smoking pot sweetheart.  I don’t want to take advantage of you.  I’m not even sure I have a condom on me…” 

He laughed at James’s earnest words and playfully grabbed his ears, tugging him down into a filthily tonguing kiss.

“I have never been more sure of anything.” He said in a low voice, once they came up for air. “My name is Tom but everyone calls me ‘Q’.  That was the first smoke I’ve had all day so I’m hardly off my tits yet and I have a huge stash of condoms and lube in my bag.  Does that answer all of your questions?”

“Not quite.  I have one more.” James admitted.  He dropped his head so that his next words were almost a growl, whispered directly into Q’s ear and making him shiver;

“ _Which one is your bag?”_

~00Q~

James had lost track of time.

The rain was heavier now, drumming onto the canvas around them and blotting out all but the loudest noises from the festival outside.  The air inside was warm and cloying, the crackle of the fire and the residual buzz from the pot was heavenly.  Q was on all fours, trembling as James knelt behind his spread knees.  He was working him with three fingers in his tight arse while reaching between his legs and stroking his cock with a generously lubed hand. James couldn’t remember ever being with a more responsive lover.  Every touch made Q squirm with delight, every caress sending him further and further into a delightful headspace.  Ever since James had taken him in his arms and first slipped his fingers through the coarse hair which lined the crack of his arse, Q had been whimpering.  Spreading his legs like a blooming flower at the slightest touch, he had been debauched in his enjoyment of James’s attentions.  He had bent over for him beautifully, revealing the most perfect tight pink arsehole which he had wantonly offered to him by pulling apart his cheeks.  James had responded by working his tongue and then his fingers into him, making him pant and beg for more.

James was still clothed and would have happily stayed toying with Q all night were it not for the fact that he was desperate to feel the warm, wet heat of his body wrapped around his cock.  When his impatience reached fever pitch he placed a gentle kiss onto Q’s buttock and withdrew his fingers.  Q looked over his shoulder to see what James was doing and then whined, wiggling his arse high in the air as he watched him free his erection from the confines of his shorts.  James made short work of rolling on a condom and slicking lube over himself.  He then sat back on his feet and gently tugged on Q’s hips.

“We’ll need to do this at your pace sweetheart.  I’m big.  I don’t want to hurt you.”

Q obediently followed James’s guidance and let out a soft sigh of pleasure as he felt the broad head of James’s cock touch his arsehole.  He shuffled a little, settling on his knees, and then pushed back.  They both groaned as the head slipped in past the first ring of muscle.

“Oh God.” Q muttered, his head dropping down between his shoulders.  “Oh God.  Oh God.”  James was about to ask him if he was OK, offer to pull out, something, when Q suddenly threw his head back and sighed. “ _That feels wonderful!”_

His back flexed and James could only watch as he pushed back onto him, swallowing up another two inches of his cock.  He pulled forward and did it again. And again.  And again, until Q had him engulfed up to the hilt.  James grabbed onto Q’s hips and hung on for dear life.  Q continued to undulate, fucking himself back onto James until he was sweating and moaning with pleasure.  James was mesmerised as he watched his thick cock pierce the young man over and over.  He usually had to go easy on his partners, he’d even been with some women who’d struggled to take all of his cock, but Q seemed to have no problem.  Unable to keep watching him for fear of coming, James gave into temptation and, raising his hips, slammed into him.  Q cried out, moaning and begging James to do it again. 

James wasn’t always the best at taking orders but it seemed he was powerless to disobey Q’s.  Pushing up onto his knees he set up a bruising pace, their sweat-slicked bodies slapping together as James made Q’s skinny buttocks quiver with the force of his pumping hips.  Q clawed at the sleeping bag under his hands as he lowered his head onto it.  He started to mumble and it took a moment for James to realise what he was saying;

“I’m going to come…  I’m going to come…”

James slid a hand under his chest and pulled him back into his lap, still fucking up into him.  Q was like a ragdoll, barely able to control his limbs. 

“You want to come, darling boy?  You want me to make you come?”

Q’s head lolled and James took that to be a nod.  Quickly pulling out he threw Q down onto the sleeping bag and grabbed his ankles, flipping him onto his back.  Barely giving him a second to realise what had happened, James slid into him once more.

“Aaaaahhh!”

Q tossed his head back as James drew his ankles up onto his shoulders and resumed pounding into him.  Q’s cock was hard and smearing pre-come all over his belly so James went to grab it to wank him off.  To his surprise, Q knocked his hand away and linked his fingers with James’s.

“No… please… just like this…”

James realised what Q was asking and tilted his hips slightly so that the end of his cock rubbed over Q’s prostate with every stroke. 

“Harder, please.” He gasped.  James dug his fingers into Q’s thighs and slammed into him.  The effect was electrifying and Q wailed as he began to tense up.  He threw his head back as he shivered and his cock began to spew come all over his heaving belly.  James carried on pounding into him as his balls emptied.  Eventually Q’s tremors abated and he reached up to stroke James’s cheek.  “Slower now, softer, please.”  James nodded, realising he must be feeling sensitive after coming like that.  He smiled as he eased Q’s legs down until his thighs rested on James’s hips.  He then lay over him, still rocking into him lazily, and did his best to angle away from his prostate.  He leaned on his elbows, one either side of Q’s ribs, and kissed him gently.  Q rested his arms on James’s shoulders and linked his hands behind his head, humming with contentment.

“OK?” James asked.

“Perfect.” Q kissed him again, soft and sweet.  He drew his arms back until he could hold James’s head.  The fingers of one hand caressed the short hair at the back of James’s neck as the others traced a line over his lips softly.  “I’d like you to come now please.”

James nodded and dropped his head down into the side of Q’s neck.  He kept up his light rocking motion.  He’d been close to orgasm before he’d even started fucking Q and it was a relief to finally stop holding back.  Q made a small sound of contentment and pressed his face into the crook of James’s shoulder.  With a shudder James came quietly, kissing the smooth skin beneath his lips as the condom filled with his warm issue.

~00Q~

“Do you live like this permanently?”

Q passed him the joint he’d been smoking and shook his head.  He was laid out on the bedroll, his head propped on one hand, still as naked as the day he was born.  James was enjoying the view very much.  The low fire was sending ripples of light over his body and James longed to follow their path across Q’s pale skin with his tongue. 

“No.  I used to though.  I was born into it.”

“Oh?”

James took another drag on the joint – so much for not doing drugs, he thought wryly – and offered it back.  Q’s long fingers touched his as it was passed and they both smiled.

“My mother was part of a commune that used to stay around here in the late seventies, early eighties.  My brother and I were born in an old bus a couple of fields away from this very spot.”

“Late seventies?  How _old_ are you Q?”

“A damn sight older than you think, I’d imagine.  Me and Danny are always being told we have baby faces.”

“Your brother…?”

“He’s my identical twin.”  James’s immediately tried to imagine two of them and Q laughed, rolling forward in his mirth and pushing James’s hip playfully with a still-muddy foot.  James immediately caught it and began to gently massage the instep.  “You dirty old bastard!  And before you ask; no, we never share.”  James chuckled.

“Get asked that a lot do you?”

Q grinned.

“It has been known…”  He took another drag of the joint before passing it back to James.  He took it and carried on his foot-rub one-handedly as he smoked.

“Anyway.  Danny and me, we were always getting sick.  Coughs, colds, chest infections, stomach bugs.  We were so close we always gave it to each other.  One of us couldn’t think about getting ill without the other joining in.  In the end mum kind of gave up the alternative lifestyle.  She managed to get us a council house in Watford…” He saw the puzzled look on James’s face, “-it was where she grew up – and we moved in when Danny and me had just turned six.  I loved it.  I loved being in a house.  Getting to go to a proper school.  The whole shebang.  Danny, not so much.  When we left school at sixteen he got a job with Uncle Ron, he had an ice-cream van back then that he used to bring to festivals, and I went to college and then on to uni.  I come and meet up with them a couple of times a year.  Take a week or two off work.  Stay in the tipi with them.  Chill out.  It’s nice.”

“What do you do for a job?”  James asked, passing back the joint so he could use both hands to massage Q’s calf muscle.

“I work in IT for a big firm of accountants in London.”

James burst out laughing.

“You’re joking!  I can’t imagine you in an office…”

“Most people who work with me couldn’t imagine me here like this…” He admitted.  He finished the joint and tossed the butt into the fire as he had before.  “And what about you?  If I had to guess I’d say you were the world’s oldest Boy Scout.”

“I am.” James nodded solemnly.  “That’s exactly what I am.”

“Always prepared.”

“Always.”

Q smiled fondly.

“I really like you.”

“Well that’s a good job.” Said James crawling over him to kiss him.  “Seeing as how I had my cock up your arse not half an hour ago.” 

Q blushed adorably.

“I _am_ a little forward on occasions, I’ll admit.”

“Just a little?” James grinned.  “I’m glad you are though.  I really am.” He felt his grin fade as he examined Q’s face.  “Christ, but you are beautiful.”

Q laid down, blushing again.  Now the heat of arousal had left him he seemed almost unbearably shy.

“Will… Would you like to stay here tonight?  With me?”

“I would love to.” James said honestly, laying down beside him.

“Only…  It’s just you haven’t even taken your clothes off yet.”

James looked down and chuckled when he realised he was still more or less fully dressed.  His shorts were open but he’d tucked himself back into his underwear after they’d fucked without thinking.  He knelt up again and peeled off his shirt.  Q was watching him owlishly as he laid down and canted up his hips so he could slide his shorts and underpants off together.  Once naked he laid back and tucked his hands in behind his head.

“Better?”

Q rolled closer and placed a cool hand on James’s abs.

“So much better.”  He stroked down to James’s navel and up to the bottom of his ribs.  “You have a fabulous body.  And your cock is huge.  Even now.”

James looked down.  His cock was just beginning to fill out again.  He wasn’t sure he could get hard enough to fuck again, not for another hour or so anyway, but the old boy was definitely interested.  Q brushed his hand over it as James ran his fingers through Q’s hair.  It slipped through them like satin.

“Did I hurt you at all?  I can get a little carried away sometimes.”

“No more than I wanted you to.”  Q closed his eyes and smiled.  “It felt wonderful.”

James gently pulled Q towards him and kissed him.  It started gently but grew in passion as James rolled over onto Q and pressed their naked bodies together for the first time.  Q quickly grew hard again and began to rut up against James’s hip.  James chuckled and smoothed a hand down Q’s back as he rolled onto his side, drawing Q’s legs up over his hip.  He dipped his fingers into the cleft of his arse and over his slightly loose and puffy arsehole.

“Would you like me to make things feel wonderful again?”  He asked, trailing his lips down Q’s neck to mouth at his pulse point.  “I’m afraid it’s too soon for a repeat performance but I’m sure I can think of a few creative things to do with my fingers…”

~00Q~

There were several things.

All extremely creative.

~00Q~

James was awoken by a flash of bright daylight and a curse.

“He’s only gone and shagged someone on my fucking sleeping bag _again_!”

It took less than a second for James to realise he was warm and comfortable, cocooned in a sleeping bag with the heavy weight of Q sprawled over him, his head resting on his chest.  Quite how they’d both managed to fit into the same bag wasn’t clear but it felt delightful having their bare bodies pressed together.  The tipi’s flap opening fell shut and they were plunged into semi-darkness again.

There was general laughter from outside the tipi and a smothered snigger from the naked man in his arms.  James opened his eyes and saw Q sleepily grinning up at him.

“I probably should have warned you that they tend to bundle in here at first light.  They wake me up like this every morning… ” He whispered.

James squeezed him gently and pressed a light kiss onto his forehead.

“Should I leave now?” He asked quietly.

“No.” Q breathed, snuggling in closer.  “Please don’t.  Danny would take far too much pleasure from watching you do the walk of shame out of here.  Stay with me until they come in and fall asleep?   They never stay awake long.  Then I’ll come with you.  We could find some breakfast.”  He looked suddenly bashful. “If you’d like me to, that is.”

“I would.” James admitted.  “I _would_ like you to.  You know,” he added, lowering his voice until it was little more than a rough growl, “If you came and stayed in my tent with me, the only thing that would be likely to wake you up in the morning would be my mouth on your cock…”

He felt Q shiver a little.  Just then the flap opened again and his tent-mates started to come in.  Q pulled the sleeping bag up over their heads and kissed James softly.

“That sounds rather lovely…”  He breathed.

~00Q~

James stood outside the tipi and looked around him.  The sun was shining and the air was filled with the smell of wood smoke and cooking food.  His stomach growled and he wondered if Q was a vegetarian.  If not, he knew of a stall which sold the most amazing bacon rolls.  The flap opened and Q emerged.  He was wearing the same clothes as he’d been wearing the night before, finished off with an old pair of loosely laced army boots.  He had a scruffy-looking backpack slung over his shoulder. He smiled as he straightened up and slipped his hand into James’s.

“You know, you’ve never actually told me your name.”

James kissed his cheek.

“It’s Sterling.  Richard Sterling.”

“Come on then Richard.  Let’s see what we can see.”

Q led the way and James followed, disappearing into the festival with his Glastonbury sprite.

 

 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

James arched his back and snapped his hips upwards, his eye half-closed in pleasure at the sight of his lover straddling him, riding his cock.

This?  This was damn near perfection.

He gasped as Q trembled and he felt his orgasm pool in the pit of his belly.

“Are you close?” He asked.

James raised his knees so he could slide his hands under Q’s legs, tilting him and driving into him even deeper.

“So close…”  Q replied breathlessly.

“Me too.  Come for me darling.”

“Not before you I won’t.”

James watched as Q smiled and pushed the sweaty curls back off his forehead.  The challenge had obviously been accepted.  He gripped Q’s thighs as he began to push back down onto James’s cock more forcefully.  This was his favourite thing.  The way that Q’s slim legs stretched wide, his small hairy balls tight to the base of his cock.  The glimpses of James’s cock pushing into him.  Q arched his back and stretched his arms up over his head.  His slim belly pulled deliciously taut.  James grinned.  The little sod knew that move drove him crazy.

“You little shit.” He muttered.

Q laughed and started to work his hips harder as he dropped a hand down, his fingers loosely wrapping around his own cock.  He didn’t need any direct stimulation to it to get off James knew but it certainly made his orgasms more explosive.  James rested his hands over Q’s knees and relaxed, letting the tight grip of Q’s arse milk him.  He was so close his nipples were peaking into tight nubs and his balls were drawing in close to his body.  He gritted his teeth.  Q was close too, he could tell, and James was determined not to come first but then Q dropped his other hand and lightly pinched one of James’s nipples while uttering a low and guttural moan.  With a shudder James yelped and everything unspooled.  He started to come, filling Q’s body.  There was no condom and Q must have felt the flood of warmth because he faltered for a moment before regaining his rhythm and fucking James through his orgasm.  Eventually his spasms abated.

“Oh fuck, that’s good.  Come up here you gorgeous boy.  I want to suck your cock.”

Q grinned as he pulled off and crawled up James’s body.  Settling his arse on his chest he pushed his cock into James’s mouth.  He tasted heavenly and James suckled happily.  He never got tired of this; Q’s wanton love of sex.  James watched him as he began to buck his hips as he slid his hands around to cup his buttocks and smooth his fingers over his loosened hole.  They’d stopped using condoms a couple of months before and James couldn’t quite get used to how sexy it felt to dip his fingers inside his lover and feel the wetness of his own come oozing out of him.  Q cried out softly at James’s penetration and he started to come, working himself on James’s fingers as he rode out the aftershocks.  After a moment he slumped, shifting to drop down so he could curl up into James’s arms.

“Sweet Jesus…” Q murmured, licking the side of James’s face where a smear of his come was.  “How do you do that?  How do you make me want to go again the second I’ve come?”  James reached down and wrapped his fingers around Q’s softening cock and started to lazily stroke him.  Q shivered at his touch.

“It’s you, you minx.  You’re so beautiful and you know it drives me crazy.  You should come with a warning attached.”

“May cause explosive orgasms?”

“Mmm.  Something like that.”

Q moved his hips and they both groaned as James’s cock slipped into the crease of his thigh.  He rolled on top of him, smiling down at the older man.

“I should probably go and get cleaned up.”  He said, even as he rested his head next to James’s on the pillow.  James smoothed his hands down over his back and cupped his buttocks.

“In a while sweetheart, please.”  He glanced at the clock.  It was almost midnight.  “I have to leave for the airport first thing in the morning.  Let me enjoy this for a while longer.”

Q sighed.

“Where are you going this time?”

“Turkey.  We’re trying to negotiate a safe route through it for an aid convoy into Syria.”

Q hummed at him sleepily.

“Will you stay safe?  I worry about you when you’re gone.”

“I should be fine.  My employers do everything they can to make sure of it.”

“I hope so.  I love you Richard.”

James kissed Q’s sweaty, tousled hair and wrapped his arms around his back, holding him close.  He hated that Q didn’t know his true identity.   Q still thought he was Richard Sterling.  Trouble-shooter and route negotiator for Universal Exports, a company which specialised in the movement of aid-packages and emergency relief.  What they’d had at the Glastonbury Festival was supposed to be a one-off.  When he’d been unable to sneak out of Q’s tent undetected the following morning he’d thought it couldn’t hurt to spend just one more day with him and so had given him his cover identity.  Giving known criminals and terrorists his real name was one thing but a civilian?  He would never have put him in potential danger like that.  Not for a couple of quick fucks.  

By the end of the weekend though, after spending two wonderful days roaming the festival with Q and two glorious nights making love to him James found himself wanting to see Q after the festival ended.  On the Monday morning when Q sadly admitted that he had to go back to his family to help them pack up and he asked for James’s number he’d given it.  

He hadn’t really expected Q to call when they were both back in London though.

He hadn’t really expected him to understand and stick with him when James had gone on mission unexpectedly and had disappeared for over a month just three weeks later.

He hadn’t expected _this_ , this funny, charming, spirited young man to fall in love with him and want to be with him despite everything.

He hadn’t expected Q to believe all of his lies.

Q was unlike anyone he’d ever met.  James knew that he was in his mid-thirties but there was a youthful innocence about him, a joyful love of life that sometimes left James feeling jaded and old.  He wondered time and time again why Q kept putting up with him.

He turned his head, suddenly ready to tell him all of it, who he really was.  He wanted to come clean, to lay his heart bare and see if Q could love the man that he actually was…

Q snored slightly as James shifted, his fingers curling unconsciously where they lay on James’s chest.  He looked so peaceful that James was helpless to do anything but kiss him softly, taking care not to rouse him.

“I love you too sweetheart.”  He whispered.

The truth could wait just a little bit longer.

~00Q~

Q sat at his desk slowly working his way through the latest batch of visitor passes.

Security at MI6 was ridiculously tight and one of his more mundane roles as IT Engineer (Third Class) was to decommission any temporary electronic passes that had been used by visitors that day.  He didn’t mind it, if truth be told.  His job could be quite stressful at times, keeping everyone’s kit running.  On the floor he covered alone there were over a hundred PCs and Macs and that didn’t include the company issued tablets and phones.  He rather liked the fact that deleting the information off the passes gave him ten minutes or so to relax.

As he worked he thought about Richard.  His boyfriend of over six months now.  He’d never met anyone like him before.  He was handsome and funny and the sex was fabulous.  They had something together that Q had never had in a relationship before, a deep connection.  He knew that Richard had to work abroad a lot but whenever he came home it was like he’d hardly been away at all.  They were always so eager to see each other.  Even the times that Richard had come home injured and unwilling to show Q the extent of his injuries he’d eventually allowed Q to care for him and love him.  Richard was older than him and he’d worried at first that he wasn’t what Q wanted which was why Q had insisted that they both get tested.  Q wanted to show him how much he meant to him.  When their results both came back clean they made love bare for first time.  He’d thought that Richard was going to cry when Q first sank down onto him.  He admitted afterwards that he’d never made love to a man like that before and Q had been so proud that he had been the one to give that to him.

Richard had been quiet when they’d parted that morning.  When they woke he’d said there was something that he needed to tell Q but he’d looked so sad when he’d tried to speak that Q had started to kiss him.  They’d ended up making love instead.  Whatever it was, Q told him it would wait until he got back.

His thoughts of Richard were interrupted when his phone rang.  He checked the caller ID and smiled.

“IT department.  Have you tried turning it off and on again?”

“Hardy-har-har.”  Eve Moneypenny replied dryly.  “Q, I need your help.”

Eve was one of his best friends at MI6 despite the fact he almost never saw her at work.  Eve worked with the director on a floor that was deemed level one secure.  As Q was only cleared to work up to level two security it meant their paths never crossed unless she made a point of coming to see him.  They’d met while they were both going through their inductions at MI6 and got on like a house on fire so they regularly met up for lunch or coffee.  During their initial competence testing Eve had excelled at a completely different set of skills to Q which was why she’d ended up in the intelligence branch whereas he’d been cherry-picked by IT.   Eve had done really well for herself over the years.  She was hard-working and singularly driven to succeed.   Q wasn’t confident enough in his abilities to have anything close to her drive but he was happy staying where he was.  The pay was okay and he liked the people he worked with.

“What do you need?”

“My computer’s stopped working properly and I need it fixed pronto.  M’s got a meeting in forty-five minutes and if I don’t get these reports printed out for him my arse will officially be grass.”

“And he’s the lawnmower right?  I don’t know, I’m not sure I’d mind a big man like that chewing on _my_ arse...”

“Don’t be a bell-end.”

“Look Eve you know I don’t have clearance for your floor.  If I’m spotted up there, you won’t be the only one with green butt cheeks.”

“ _Please_ Q!  My usual guy’s on holiday. You’ll be saving my life.”

“Hold on a second.” He grumbled.  He turned to his laptop and called up the scheduling for his team.  “Right… Mendes is usually assigned to your offices isn’t he?  Looks like McDowall is covering him this week.  I can call him for you if you’d like.”

“Do you really think I haven’t already tried that?”  Eve was beginning to sound exasperated.  “I rang his office right before I rang you.  According to Givens he’s just signed out of the building on lunch.”  Q sighed.  There was a strict protocol for dealing with the level one departments.  Any member of staff with responsibility for the IT on those floors weren’t supposed to leave the building at all during their shifts in case of emergencies.  McDowall should have known that.  “Please Q.  It’s probably something simple – you know how crap I am with mending computers if they go wrong.  You’ll be in and out of here in less than five minutes.”

He sighed.

“Fine.  OK.  Give me a couple of minutes and I’ll meet you at the east stairwell on your floor.  You’ll need to use your key card to get me in.”

“Thank you darling.”

He grabbed his tool bag and hurried to the stairs.  He was five floors below Eve so he was out of breath by the time he reached her level.  He really should think about giving up smoking pot.  He didn’t do a lot these days but he was definitely getting wheezy.  It was alright for his brother Danny.  He smoked twenty cigarettes a day on top of the weed and could still outrun him.  Eve was there waiting by the secure door for him and she opened it.  He’d never been on this floor before but he could see by the carpet and the real plants in the planters that it was a lot posher than his usual haunts on the lower levels.

“We need to hurry.”  She said as they walked briskly towards her office.  “M is busy briefing 007 at the moment so we might be able to get you in and out without him noticing if we’re quick.  If he does stick his head out, let me do the talking”

“Hold on a second,” Q said, suddenly interested.  “ _The_ 007\.  The one from all the stories?”

“The very same.  Only I shouldn’t mention that you have any idea who he is if anyone asks.”

Q was intrigued.  Eve wasn’t supposed to tell him anything about her work but as they both worked for MI6 she hadn’t seen the harm in letting slip a few juicy details about the infamous James Bond.  From what Eve had said the man was a tall and handsome serial flirt who could melt the panties (or boxers) off a mark as soon as look at them.  In fact, his speciality on missions was seduction.  Well, seduction and killing people.  She told him all the salacious stories.  Like the time he was discovered screwing a mark’s wife and ended up fucking the mark himself… whilst being pegged by the wife.  Or the time he took a video call from the home secretary and accepted a thank you on the Queen’s behalf balls deep in his latest conquest.  Or the time he shagged a defecting enemy agent whilst piloting a Cessna light aeroplane as he flew her to the airbase at RAF Brize Norton.  There was more, much more and as he entered Eve’s office Q looked at M’s closed door with interest.  He wondered if he would get to catch a glimpse of the legendary shagger.  First though, he had to fix her PC.  He sat down in front of it.

“What’s the problem here?”

“The mouse has stopped working.  I tried restarting it but it won’t respond at all.”

Q moved the mouse experimentally.  Nothing.  He turned it over.  Dead.

“Eve.  When was the last time you changed the batteries in this?”

“The what?”

Great.  He’d just risked a bollocking for being somewhere he shouldn’t be, doing something he could have told Eve how to fix over the phone.  He rummaged in his kit and found two double A batteries.  Flipping the little cover off the mouse he changed them over.  Success.

“There you go.”  He said, tossing the old batteries in the bin.  “That’ll be a sixty quid call-out fee please.”

“Do you take sexual favours?”  She asked jokingly.

“Not from you,” he answered, standing up with a theatrical shudder, “You know vaginas terrify me.  Especially yours.”

She laughed and was about to say something else when the door to M’s office opened.  He looked up guiltily, only too aware that he wasn’t supposed to be in Eve’s office and…

“Richard?”

Standing in front of him was his boyfriend, frozen in whatever he’d been in the middle of saying.  Another man joined him.  Q had never met M, the director of MI6, but he recognised him from all the times his picture had been in the newspapers.  Richard was staring at him with a confused look on his face.

“What on earth are you doing here Q?”

“James?  How do you know Q?”

Q looked at Eve as she spoke and then back at Richard.  He took half a step back, bumping into Eve’s desk at the implications of what she’d just said.

“Are you…”  The words stuck in his throat for a moment.  He coughed. “ _You’re_ James Bond?”  His voice sounded small to his own ears and he was suddenly scared that he might throw up.  This couldn’t be happening.  Richard worked for Universal Exports as a contract manager.  He travelled the world securing convoy and aide routes through some of the most dangerous countries in the world.  That was why he was away a lot.  Why he sometimes came home hurt.  He wasn’t an MI6 spy.  He didn’t kill people for a living.

Or sleep with people.

“Oh my God.”  Eve said quietly.  “I had no idea.  Q, you said his name was Richard…”

“Would someone mind explaining to me what the hell is going on?”  M demanded.

Q had to get out of there.  At M’s words he bolted, heading for the stairwell.  He’d barely taken two steps out of the door before Richard ( _James?_ ) called out after him.

“Q!   _Tom!  Tom please!”_

He sprinted to the door to the stairwell and then realised with mounting horror that he couldn’t open it.  He didn’t have the correct authorisation.  He grabbed the handle, yanking on it violently. The panic which had threatened to crush him in Moneypenny’s office swamped him now.  He had to get away.  The door rattled but it didn’t budge.  This wasn’t happening.  This couldn’t be happening.  Large hands that he knew oh-so-well closed over his gently.  James drew them to his chest.

“Sweetheart.  Let me explain.  Please.”

Q wrenched one of his hands free and slapped James hard across the face.

“Fuck off!”  He spat, tugging to free his other hand.  “Don’t you fucking touch me!  Don’t you dare fucking touch me!”

James put his hands up.

“I’m so sorry.  I wanted to tell you.  I never wanted you to find out like this.”  He said quietly.

“Find out what?”  Q spat.  “That you’re a liar?  That you’ve been leading me on for six fucking months?  Or that you fuck other people behind my back for a living?  Oh God…”  He gagged, barely holding on to his lunch.  “I need to get tested again.  I can’t believe I let you fuck me bare.  Oh God.”

“No, Q.  I’ve always been careful…”

“Oh well THANK FUCK FOR THAT!” Q yelled, suddenly aware simultaneously that there were people watching them and that he was on the verge of tears.  “Thank fuck you were careful all the times you slept with those other people!”

“It wasn’t like that…” James seemed to deflate.  “I need to explain it better.  I’ll come and see you when I get back I swear but I have to fly out in an hour.”

“Please don’t.”  Q said quietly.  “I… please don’t.  I don’t think I could bear to look at you.  Please just let me go.”

“So that’s it, is it?”  James asked, his face hardening.  “I lied but what about you?  You lied to me too!  You told me you worked at Allied Accountants!  I hate to break it to you but MI6 is hardly a firm of accountants!”

“You know all MI6 employees have to keep where they work a secret!  And I might have lied but I never cheated on you _James_.”  Spitting out his real name, Q finally started to cry. He flinched away again when James tried to touch him.  James hesitated, his face falling as Q's words laid heavily onto him.  With a look of regret he reached into his pocket, pulled out his key card and opened the door for him.  Q scurried past him into the stairwell.  He’d got down the first flight of stairs when James spoke again quietly.

“I… you don’t understand.  I’ll make this up to you.  Explain everything.  Please let me?”

“I don’t know if I can.”

Q shook his head, shocked at his own quiet words, and carried on down the stairs.

~00Q~

Amsterdam was shit.

It was a low-key operation for a double-oh agent really but his orders had been clear.  There was some kind of deal going on between a multinational pharmaceutical company and the military advisor to a wannabe junta in eastern Africa.  MI6 wanted to know the details.  It took him less than a day to discover the location of the meeting and a further six hours to find the man he’d been ordered to target.  He duly mugged him, knocking him out in a quiet alley before taking his wallet and watch to make it look like a simple robbery.  He then used a device given to him by his quartermaster Boothroyd to clone the USB stick he had hidden to the inside pocket of his jacket.  Once copied, he returned the USB to it’s hiding place.  Piece of cake.

He got back to London that evening and sat through a debriefing by M… and a reprimand.  Apparently he didn’t appreciate domestic disputes in his office.  After allowing him to chew him out Bond apologised and promised it wouldn’t happen again.  Finally dismissed he left and came face-to-face with Eve.  She looked like she was on the verge of tears.

“Oh James.”  She sighed.

He walked over to her and hugged her.

“It wasn’t your fault.”  He said quietly.

“It was.”  She said, her hands gripping the back of his suit.  “I told him all those stupid stories.  All those outrageous things you used to get up to in the field.  I made it sound like you shagged anything that moved.  I had no idea you were with him.  You never told me you had a lover and he always talked about his boyfriend Richard.  I had no idea it was you.  I’m so sorry.”

He pulled back and looked her in the eye.

“Don’t.  This was on me.  It was all on me.  I should never have…”  He trailed off.  “It’s not your fault.”  He repeated.

“But I’m sorry.”  She insisted. “Are you going to talk to him?”

“I’m going to try.”

“Good.  If there’s anything I can do to help, anything, name it.  I’ll do whatever I can to make this up to you.”

Q’s flat was in Putney.  It was a maisonette really as it took up the entire ground floor of the small two-storey property.  James arrived just after ten and he rapped on the glass door of the little porch.  There was a pause and then the inner door opened.  For a split second James’s heart leapt but then he realised he was looking at Q’s twin brother, Danny.  They were startlingly similar but James had always been good at reading people and in the months he’d got to know the brothers he’d learned to tell them apart easily, even when Q wasn’t wearing his glasses.  Danny was slightly more muscular than Q and his hair was a little longer.  Other than that they were virtually indistinguishable.  Even down to the identical moles on the side of their jaws.  Danny closed the inner door behind him firmly before opening the outer.  Pausing by the doorframe he leant on it and crossed his arms.

“What the fuck do you want?”

“Is Q in?”

“Yes.”

“Can I see him?”

“No.”

James paused.  Unsure of how to handle Danny.

“I need to speak to him.”

“No.”

“Where is he?” James asked, starting to get annoyed.

“He’s in bed.  He’s been crying for the last couple of hours.  Something to do with having to go the emergency sexual health clinic in Croydon to get tested for HIV and the clap and God knows whatever else you’ve exposed him to.  Do you know what that’s like, Mr Sterling or Bond or whatever the fuck your name is?  Taking your little brother to a clinic to see if his piece of shit boyfriend has infected him?”

James shook his head, his anger leaving him in an instant as shame overwhelmed him.

“I didn’t.  Look, I didn’t sleep with anyone else.  Not since I met him.  I wish he’d let me explain…”

“I don’t think he wants to hear it.”  Danny said.  He reached into his pocket and pulled out a battered packet of cigarettes.  He took one out along with his lighter and lit it.  “I don’t think he wants to hear why you did it.  Why you couldn’t even tell him your fucking name.  Why you lied to him about who you worked for.  Why everything you told him was a lie.”

“Not everything,” James said quietly, “I wasn’t lying when I told him that I loved him.”

Danny snorted out a humourless laugh and took another drag.

“I don’t suppose he’ll believe that for a minute.”  James went to speak again and Danny cut him off by continuing.  “I just don’t understand how you could have lied like that when you worked in the same _building_ as him…”

“I didn’t realise we _were_ in the same building.  We worked in separate departments.  I only ever visit the departments that are covered by top security clearance.”  James said sadly.  “My identity is restricted to the majority of the staff in the building.  Only those with top level security are likely to even catch sight of me there.”

“Looking out for number one, were you?”

“No.  It’s for their protection.  Stops our enemies from targeting low-level employees.  Q had a completely different security clearance to me.  We simply never met in there.”

Danny sighed.

“Listen mate, do me a favour – do Tommy one –  and fuck off.  And stay the fuck away from him.  He adored you and you broke his fucking heart.”

“I know but I can’t do that.  I can’t just leave.”

Danny threw his cigarette on the floor and crushed it underfoot.

“You’re a big fucker and you probably know how to fight but I want you to know that if you try to get to him you will have to go through me.  I say again.  You need to leave him the fuck alone.  You fucking spies are all the same.  You and your fucking employers.  You don’t give a shit about normal people, do you?  You treat us little people like rubbish.  You think you can ruin our lives and we won’t bite back?  Well I learned the hard way how to bite back and I don’t want Tommy to end up like me.”  He hesitated before speaking again.  “I won’t let you hurt him like that.”

James watched as Danny went back into the house and then slowly walked away.

~00Q~

Q lay on his bed listening to the voices outside the front door.  Ever since he got back from the clinic he’d lain there.  He’d been off work sick since the incident in M’s office the day before and he supposed he would have to go back in the morning.  He just felt so terrible.  He’d gone through a full series of tests and had to answer a raft of personal questions at the clinic.  The last time he’d been to a place like that he’d been collecting Danny and he hated them.

He’d never forget his brother’s terror at being told he was HIV positive.

Q’s test had been clear but as they’d had unprotected sex just a few days before he had to go for a follow up test in a couple of weeks’ time.  Unprotected.  He was so angry with himself.  How could he have been so stupid?

He clutched his pillow as he heard Richard’s voice.   _James_ he corrected himself mentally.  His name was James.  The man he’d shared his life with for the past six months.  The man he’d asked to move in with him. The man he thought he’d loved.  He hadn’t even known what his real name was.  He couldn’t hear what James was saying.  He didn’t really want to.  It would just be him trying to justify his lies.  Q’s stomach was churning again and he rolled over, wrapping his head in the pillow so he wouldn’t have to hear his voice anymore.

After a few minutes the bed dipped beside him and the pillow was tugged off his head.  Danny was smiling down at him sadly.

“How was he?”  Q asked.

“Who gives a fuck?”  Danny answered.

“Danny please…”

He shrugged.

“Tall?  Handsome?  A complete cunt?  I don’t know.  He looked alright.  He wanted to talk to you.  I gave him the big brother act for you just like you asked.  Told him to stay away.”

“What did he say?”

“He said he wanted to explain things to you.  Said he loves you and he never slept with anyone else since he met you.”

“Eve said the same thing.  She said all the stories she told me… they were all from before we met.” His tears welled up again. “I want to believe that but I’m so fucking angry with him.  It was lies, all fucking lies.  I don’t know what to do Danny.  I don’t know if I can ever forgive him.”  He sobbed on the last word as he tried to rein in his emotions.  He was furious but so hurt he felt like he was choking.  He swallowed hard, desperate not to cry again.  He didn’t seem to have done anything but cry since he got home.  Danny swung his legs up onto the bed and laid down so he was facing him.

“Oh Tomma,” he soothed, using his childhood nickname for him as he reached out to stroke a stray curl back off Q’s forehead. “You need to give yourself a bit of time.  Don’t do anything rash.  I’m not saying don’t forgive him, end of, I just think you should go easy on yourself.  Get your head straight.  Talk to him when you’re ready.  Decide if he’s worth forgiving.  If he’s as keen to make it up to you as I think he is he’ll wait.”  He smoothed his hand over Q’s shoulder.  “I never got to ask Alex about the things he did, but I’d like to have had the chance.  You’ve got a chance but it doesn’t have to be right now.”

Q studied his brother’s face.  He looked so sad.  It had become a familiar expression for him over the past two years since his boyfriend died.  He reached out and Danny scooted in, wrapping his arms around him.  They used to cuddle a lot as children, a throwback to their time in the womb together that their mother had encouraged, and they would share beds at night well into their teens.  They seldom lay like this now though.  The last time Q remembered them doing it was the night after Danny found Alex dead.  Now he tucked himself in, relishing the warm smell and the familiarity of his brother.

“Will you stay here with me tonight?”

“If you like.  But tomorrow you need to buck yourself up.  Get a shower, have breakfast, go to work.  It’ll make you feel better.”

“Okay.” Q said, his eyes sliding shut, “I’ll do that.  It can’t make me feel any worse…”

~00Q~

When James got back to his flat just after midnight Danny’s words were still going around in his head.  He’d allowed Danny to turn him away from Q’s door because he realised he wasn’t going to get past him without a fight and that was the last thing Q needed – his twat of a lying boyfriend roughing up his brother.  He couldn’t stop thinking about what Danny had said though.

_You fucking spies are all the same._

“Fucking spies.” James muttered.  “What ‘fucking spies’?”  He remembered discussing Danny with Q once.  He’d said that his brother had been in quite a bit of trouble a few years previously but he hadn’t gone into specifics.  As he took a quick shower and got ready for bed James couldn’t help wondering who Danny had been referring to.  Why would he have ever been involved with the security service?  He knew he wasn’t going to sleep without trying to find out so James got into bed armed with a bottle of whiskey and a glass on his nightstand, his laptop resting on his thighs.  While the computer opened up he tried not to look at the empty side of the bed.  A few nights before Q had lain there, slept there, after they’d made love.

Fuck, but he missed him.

He opened up Chrome and typed in ‘Daniel Holt’, not really expecting to get much back on such a basic search.  Instead he found pages and pages of results all relating to an accidental death two years previously.  He poured himself a glass of whiskey and began to read.

 

The next morning he made a phone call.

_“Moneypenny.”_

“Eve.  Can you talk?”

 _“Just one moment Ma’am.”_ She replied before the phone was muffled.  A minute later she spoke quietly.   _“Thanks for that.  I was sitting in on an extremely dull meeting between M and the head of the FIS.  They’ve been talking about golf for the past twenty minutes.  I told him you were the Prime Minister’s secretary.  You’d better make this quick.”_

“What do you know about a man called Alistair Turner?”

“ _Nothing comes to mind.  Who is he?”_

“He _was_ the boyfriend of Q’s twin brother Danny.  Until he was found dead in what the paper’s called a sex game that went horribly wrong.”

_“Oh, how terrible.”_

“The thing is, I was reading through the newspaper articles last night.  The Daily Mail was frantic.  Danny was implicated.  He was accused of having something to do with it.  He ended up going on the record, gave an exclusive interview that was printed in a Sunday newspaper.  Denied it was anything to do with him.  Said his boyfriend was a virgin when they met and the last person likely to dabble in erotic asphyxiation and throttle himself in a trunk.”

_“Jesus.  Poor guy.”_

“So here’s the thing.  After the initial furore there was nothing.  No inquest mentioned.  No prosecution.  No report on a court case being dismissed or the charges being dropped.  It was like it never happened.”

_“You think it was covered up?”_

“Yes.  And here’s another thing.  I saw Danny last night.  He was understandably furious at me over the whole thing with Q and at one point he accused ‘us spies’ of all being the same.”

_“You think MI6 might have been involved?”_

“Or MI5 maybe.  Could you have a look at the personnel records?  See if he was employed by either agency?  I’d like to know the full story and that seems like the logical place to start.”

 _“You’re doing this for Q, aren’t you?”_ James didn’t answer.  After a moment she said; _“Let me see what I can do. I’ve got to go.”_

She rang off.         

 

She rang back later in the afternoon.

_“Alistair Turner, more commonly known as Alex, was employed by MI6.  He was the son of Frances Turner, who was the second female double-oh agent after the old M, Olivia Mansfield.  He was a mathematician who had a talent for computer programming.  A lot of his work was deemed top secret but this much I did manage to find out; he was working on something big.  Something to do with facial recognition I think.  I don’t know exactly what yet.  I need to do a bit more digging.”_

“Digging?”

_“The assistant to the head of MI6’s research program is an odious little man called Smith.  I seem to end up being chatted up by him every time the big boys meet up.  I’m going to have dinner with him tonight.”_

“You’re really taking one for the team, aren’t you?” James said softly.

_“I told you I was sorry for what I did.  I’d do anything to make it up to you and Tom.  If this helps, well…”_

“Thank you.  Do me a favour though Eve.  Don’t mention this to Q if you see him.  I don’t want him to think I’m poking around in things that don’t concern me.”

_“I will.  You’re shipping out again tomorrow, aren’t you?”_

“I am.  Bratislava initially and then, who knows.”

“ _I love it there.  I’ll talk to you when you get back.”_

“Whenever that might be.”  James replied sombrely.

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

 

Over the next few weeks Q’s life largely fell back into its usual routine.

He went back to work.  At first he was nervous that there would be serious repercussions about the scene he’d made in M’s office but other than a slap on the wrist from HR regarding him straying from his authorised areas of work there was nothing.  Eve told him afterwards that it was because she’d taken full responsibility for what had happened.  She had seemed grateful that he had forgiven her for her part in him and James splitting up.  It wasn’t her fault, he’d told her.  It was James’s fault all the way.

Danny had stayed for another night but then left.  He worked on an ad-hoc basis picking orders at a mail order firm’s warehouse when he wasn’t doing festivals and they’d offered him a couple of weeks work before he was off travelling in the burger van again, doing a series of Christmas fairs in Ireland with their uncle.  Danny’s flat was in Vauxhall and closer to the company’s warehouse and although he loved Q, he said, he wasn’t worth the hassle of getting up an hour earlier to get to work in the morning.  Q had laughed when he’d told him and really didn’t mind.  The solitude at his own flat was nice and he passed the evenings working on various apps and studying computer programming.  He hadn’t been able to afford to carry on at university after his degree so ever since he’d left he’d done his best to teach himself everything he could.  He’d sold a couple of moderately successful apps and received advertising revenue from a few more.  Between them all they had bolstered his savings nicely.  He wasn’t sure what he was going to do with the money but he thought he might take a sabbatical from MI6 when he’d saved enough.  See a bit of the world.

He was sad to realise that appeal of working at MI6 was beginning to wane.  He’d enjoyed working there but the whole thing with James had left a bad taste in his mouth and he just wasn’t feeling it any more.  The thought that James could walk into his department at any moment when he was off-mission…  He wondered if he should take it as a sign that he should move on.  The ultimate irony was that the IT department of Price Waterhouse Cooper, one of the biggest firm of accountants in the City of London, were actually recruiting, so after a couple of days soul-searching he bit the bullet and sent them his application.

James currently was away again on a protracted mission and Q was grateful for that.  There was no chance that he might seek him out at work to try to force a reconciliation and with any luck Q might have moved on by the time he came back.  Q still wasn’t sure if he was going to be able to forgive him but he thought that by the time James returned he might have calmed down enough to sit down and discuss it with him.  He supposed he owed him, and more importantly himself, that much at least.  

 

~00Q~

 

For once, James flew into Heathrow at a reasonable hour.  He’d lost track, over the years, of how many times he’d flown home after a mission and ended up arriving in the wee small hours.  It was a nice change for him to be able to arrive back at MI6 at lunchtime.  He’d already submitted his report electronically while sitting bored at Kuala Lumpur airport for six hours so he thought that he might be able to skip his customary debriefing with M altogether.  He apparently wasn’t going to be that lucky though.  When he turned his phone back on after leaving the plane at Heathrow there was a text message from Moneypenny waiting for him.

_ \- M’s office.  ASAP. – _

He strolled into her office a little after one and was surprised to see the door to M’s was standing open with no sign of the man himself sitting at his desk.

“He wanted to see me?”

Eve finished what she was typing and closed her laptop. 

“No actually.  That was me.  You’re taking me out to lunch.”

“I am?”

She stood up and went over to the coat stand.  Taking her coat down she handed it to James.  He held it out for her obediently as she turned and slipped it on.

“Mmm.  We have a few things to discuss and I rather fancy Italian.”

There was a rather good restaurant a few minutes’ walk from MI6 and so they went there.  Once ensconced in a corner with their meals ordered, James took up Eve’s hand from where it lay on the table and kissed the back of her fingers gallantly. 

“Not that I am ever one to complain about being in the company of a beautiful lady but why exactly am I buying you lunch?”  Tugging her hand away she grinned.

“I’ve been doing you a favour.  I met with Smith like I said I would.”

“’Research’ Smith?”

“The very man.  Although Tanner doesn’t know I did it so I’d rather you didn’t mention it to him.  I wasn’t quite sure how I could explain why I was going on a date with that slime ball without involving him in all this.”

“I still can’t believe you’re dating him when you could’ve had me.”  He teased.

“You’re right.”  She smiled. “I must be mad to be seeing such a funny, sexy, dependable, gorgeous chap…

“I’m not sure I’d call him dependable…” James joked.  “So, did you manage to get anything out of Smith on your clandestine date?” 

“Apart from the feeling that I needed to shower badly by the time I got home? Yes.  I found out what Alistair Turner was working on and it wasn’t facial recognition.  He was researching a method of determining if someone is lying from their speech patterns.  Imagine it.  Proof irrefutable that a politician is lying just from a televised debate?  Finding out that the head of a corporation is involved in dodgy dealing from a quick telephone conversation?  The legal implications would be huge for courts and police interrogations.  I’d bet that a lot of powerful people wouldn’t like it one bit.”

“So why kill him?  Why kill the man who has the intelligence to create something like that?  Someone that valuable?  It just seems so unlikely.” James said, frowning.

“What if he was trying to sell his research to another agency?  Or maybe another agency had him killed?”  Eve suggested.

James shook his head.

“It doesn’t make sense.  If British Intelligence wanted to get rid of him they wouldn’t have drawn attention to the whole thing by accusing his boyfriend of killing him.  That’s not really their style.  And if he was killed by another agency, why would MI6 want that hushed up in the media?  You remember the whole business with Litvinenko?  They didn’t exactly try very hard to get Scotland Yard to keep quiet about that.  They’re usually happy to publically lay the death of our friends and employees at the door of our enemies if there’s something in it for them.  No… there was something else going on, I’d lay money on it.” He paused for a moment, thinking.  “I wonder if…  Eve.  What if the whole thing was a cover up?  What if MI6 thought this Alex was in danger?”

“Then they’d have wanted to protect him and his work.”

“And what better way to protect someone than by making the world think that he was dead?”

They paused their conversation when the waiter arrived with their food but the moment he’d gone again, Eve said in a low voice;

“Alright.  Let’s say for argument’s sake that he is still alive, how would we ever start to find him?”

“I have an idea.  Let me work on it.”

 

~00Q~

 

Q waited nervously outside the office of Donald Crittenden, the head of MI6’s HR department.

He cursed his stupidity.  Of course they’d found out.  He could have laid money on it.  He hadn’t even heard back from Price Waterhouse Cooper yet and MI6 had already discovered that he’d applied for the job.  They must have.  The appointment had been on his schedule when he’d logged on that morning, booked in for four o’clock and he’d been fretting about it all day.  By the time Crittenden’s smiley secretary had ushered him into the little waiting area outside his office his nerves felt frayed.  He didn’t want to talk about Bond, he really didn’t, and he’d been wracking his brains trying to think of a good reason for wanting to leave their employment that wasn’t _‘it_ _turns out my boyfriend was a lying, unfaithful double-oh agent’_.  He picked at the corduroy of his trousers nervously as he waited.

At one minute past four the door opened and Crittenden beckoned him in. 

“Sorry to’ve kept you.  Come in, come in.”

He was surprised to see there was another man sitting behind the desk.  He looked elderly – far too old to be in an office in MI6 – but his eyes were bright and intelligent.  He had a large file in front of him.  Once they were all sat down he opened it and picked up the top piece of paper before speaking.

“Ah.  Mr Holt.  I wonder if you might explain ‘Bool’ to me?”

Q was sideswiped for a moment.  He’d expected a question along the lines of ‘why are you leaving?’ not one about the more successful of his apps.  He cleared his throat.

“It’s a play on the words ‘book’ and ‘tool’ Sir.  Also a nod to ‘Boolean’ data I guess.  ‘Bool’ is a free app I began working on when I was at University.  I didn’t have a lot of money and I struggled sometimes to afford the books I needed for my course.  I made friends with a guy a year above me in my second year who, it turns out, had given his first year books to a charity shop when he didn’t need them anymore.  He didn’t personally know anyone who might want them.  Bool enables students in different years to connect easily.  They can either sell their books on at a discount when they’re done with them or just give them away if they like.  It’s quite successful.”

The old man smiled.

“That’s very modest of you.”  He looked at the piece of paper.  “According to my staff’s calculations, judging by the number of downloads of the app it must be yielding you what? Seventy, eighty pounds a month in advertising revenue?”

Q felt himself flush.

“I… well.  I suppose.  I didn’t design it to make myself money…”

“How very altruistic of you.”  He shuffled through the other sheets.  “You have in fact designed several apps intended to help those less fortunate.  The blind, the physically less-abled, autistic children and also…” He gave out a little chuckle. “…a rather fun game starring zombie-killing elephants that helps with hand to eye co-ordination.  I like that one.  I was playing it for hours this morning.”

Q was beginning to feel confused.

“Sir, I don’t mean to be rude but who are you and what is all this about?”

The old man looked surprised.

“I’m sorry my boy, I should have introduced myself.  My name is Major Boothroyd and I’d like you to come and work for me.”

Boothroyd.  He was the quartermaster for MI6.  Q had heard a lot about him of course but he never expected to actually meet him.  He ran several level one secure departments located somewhere down in the basement of the building (or so he’d been told). Research and Development encompassed all kinds of design work involving computers, chemicals and weapons.

“Does this have anything to do with my application to Price Waterhouse Cooper Sir?”

Crittenden cut in.

“In part.  You won’t be surprised to hear that we keep close tabs on all our employees Thomas.  When PWC applied to your department’s cover identity Allied Accountants for a reference we were of course alerted but as it happened Major Boothroyd had already expressed an interest in acquiring you.”

“It was another employee who brought you to my attention.”  Boothroyd said.  “Miss Moneypenny.  She’s a friend of yours I believe?”

“Yes Sir.”

“She told me she had an extremely talented friend working in IT who was being woefully under-challenged.  She told me about the apps that you’d designed.  I’m afraid I’m a bit of a Luddite when it comes to computing so I set one of my chief programmers the task of analysing your work.  She tells me that your skills in this area are first rate.  Now, normally I wouldn’t be able to make so bold a move as to actively headhunt another department’s member of staff but I take it your application to another firm indicates that you are no longer happy in your role in IT?”

“Um… well…I…”  Q stammered. 

“There is unfortunately one downside to the role I’d like to offer you.”  Boothroyd continued on regardless. “In that you will have to relocate.”

Q perked up.

“I will?”

“It has become clear to us over the past couple of years that it isn’t prudent for MI6 to have all of its eggs in one basket, so to speak, so we have a new closed facility elsewhere in London which is for dedicated R and D employees only.  Except for the occasional visits from the top brass you will be largely left to your own devices to work on projects with your assigned team.  I can’t give you the exact details of the location or what you’ll be working on unless you accept your new role but I can tell you this; you will receive a substantial pay rise and more than enough of a challenge to keep you from getting bored.”

Q blinked in surprise as Crittenden pushed a contract across the table towards him.

“We’ll understand if you are resolute in your plan to move on and are more than happy to return a glowing reference to PWC but we strongly recommend that you consider Major Boothroyd’s offer.”  Q picked up the contract and started to scan it.  “If you need more time…”

Q quickly read both pages.  His mind whirling.  A new role.  A four thousand pounds a year pay rise.  Working in a secure department away from James.  He looked up and smiled.

“No need.  Do you have a pen I can use?”

 

~00Q~

 

James sat in Boothroyd’s office waiting for him to come back.

He’d been surprised when he found the old man wasn’t there.  Boothroyd spent more and more time in his office as he got older.  Although still every bit as sharp as he had been when taking over the reins of his departments thirty years before he was beginning to feel the physical effects of doing such a punishing job well into his seventies.  James relaxed back into his chair and gazed at the walls.  They were a mishmash of photographs, awards, qualifications and diagrams which James found fascinating.  One photograph in particular caught his eye and he stood up to take a closer look.  The grainy black and white photograph showed seven men and two women.  One of the women was the old M, Olivia Mansfield.  He reached up and traced his finger over the familiar, although much younger face.

“That was taken in nineteen sixty-two.  I worked in munitions back then.”  Boothroyd’s voice made him jump.

“The original double-ohs.”  James said as Boothroyd came to stand next to him.

“Yes.  Within twelve months of that photo being taken five of the men had been killed.”

“We always have had a short life expectancy.” James commented.  He pointed to the other woman and although he thought he already knew the answer he asked; “Who’s that?”

Boothroyd squinted.

“That would be Frances Turner.  Formidable woman.  Ended up working in Whitehall I believe.”  James studied her face.  She was pretty in a plain kind of way.  He wondered what kind of a mother she had been to have nurtured her son towards being a genius.  “Anyway.  I expect you’ll want your kit.”

He turned away from the photograph to see Boothroyd extracting a gun case from his desk drawer.  James watched as he opened it.  The handgun was a lovely thing.  James could see that it had originally been a Walther PPK but it looked as though it had been modified.  As Boothroyd handed it to him so he could test its weight he spoke;

“There’s something I wanted to ask you.  Probably nothing but there was something that a DIS agent I came across said…”

“Oh?  Italian eh?”  Boothroyd sat down, looking interested.

“I’ve known him for years.  He cornered me in a bar in Singapore.  He was drunk, bragging really.  He said that their boffins were close to perfecting some new kind of lie detection device that was going to revolutionise espionage.”

“Really?  Any idea what it was?”

“I’m not sure.  I fancy it was something to do with speech patterns.”

“Speech patterns?  Hmm.”  Boothroyd leaned back in his chair and laced his fingers together over his stomach.  “We had a team working on a similar program a few years ago.”

“Are the Italians doing the same kind of research, do you think?”

“I shouldn’t think so for a minute.”  Boothroyd said.  “As I heard it our program was a bust.  It didn’t work.  The whole thing got shelved a couple of years ago as an enormous waste of money.”

“That’s disappointing.” James commented.

“Yes.  Especially as it all looked so promising for a while.  Mind you,” Boothroyd added, “there’s a rumour that the CIA were looking into something similar…”

“Really?”  James asked.  “When was that?”

Boothroyd smiled.

“No ‘was’ about it, Bond.  The project is still running.” 

 

Later that evening his flight to Reykjavík was delayed so James used the time to make a phone call at the airport.  It was answered on the second ring.

_ “James, my man.  It’s six-thirty in the morning and this is my first day off in over a month.  This better be good.” _

“Good morning Felix.  Remember when I covered your arse in Paris last year and you told me that you owed me one?”

There was a sigh from the other side of the world.

_ “What do you want?” _

“I need you to look into something for me…”

 

~00Q~

 

“Hey Gorgeous!”

Q turned around on the pavement outside the main entrance of the MI6 building as he was about to cross the road to see Eve hurrying towards him.  It was six thirty, an hour after his usual finishing time, but his team had insisted on throwing him a little going-away party.  He smiled when he saw her.

“Hi.  Haven’t seen you all week.  I was hoping I’d bump into you, I needed to thank you…”

He leaned in and kissed her cheek.  Eve grinned.

“You got the job with Boothroyd?”

“I got the job with Boothroyd.  I start on Monday at R and D’s new site in Westminster.”           

“That’s wonderful!  He’s a dear man.  You’ll do well with him.”

“Do you fancy grabbing something to eat?  My treat, as a thank you for recommending me.”

Eve hesitated.

“I’d love to but can I take a rain check?  I’m bushed and just want to get home tonight.  It’s been manic this week.  Absolutely manic.  007 has been up to his old tricks again.”

Q’s stomach felt like it dropped and Eve must have seen the change in his expression.

“Oh babe.  I’m sorry.  Poor choice of words.  I mean he’s been blowing things up again that he shouldn’t.”

Q let out a small laugh of relief.

“Oh I see.  He sounds like he’s a nightmare out in the field.” He said with false cheer.  He obviously wasn’t fooling Eve though.

“I’m an idiot.” She said softly.  “I shouldn’t have phrased it like that.  It’s all been smoothed over for him now though.  He should be back in the country in the next couple of days.”

Q nodded, suddenly feeling sad.

“You should speak to him.” She said suddenly.  “He asks about you all the time.  I know he lied to you but try to see it all from his point of view.  He wanted to tell you the truth so badly but he was terrified you wouldn’t want him anymore.”

“I don’t know Eve.” Q said sadly.  “Part of me wants to forgive him but another part of me hates him for what he did.  I was so angry with him.  I  _ am _ so angry.” He looked at his feet.  “But another part of me misses him so badly and that part seems to be getting bigger every day…”  His voice grew hoarse.  “I feel like whatever I do I’ll be…”

Eve looked up as he was speaking and her eyes suddenly widened in horror.  She grabbed his arm and yanked him towards her, pulling him off balance.  He stumbled but evidently not far enough…

The last thing he remembered was the screeching of tyres.  Then something slammed into him which sent him tumbling down, down, down into darkness.

 

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

 

James strolled off the British Airways flight from Dubai.

It had been a difficult mission and he was glad to be coming home.  So glad that he hadn’t complained when Tanner informed him he’d been booked onto the flight at the last minute and he’d have to fly economy.  He’d slept for much of the flight, exhausted after spending most of the previous seventy hours awake, only waking when a flight attendant touched his shoulder and told him to put on his seatbelt for landing.

He was clear of the airport by nine thirty and the night air was cold compared to the comparative heat of the United Arab Emirates.  He buttoned up his suit jacket and debated checking in with MI6 but most of the regular staff would have gone home and he was in no mood to deal with the night shift.  Hailing a cab, he got in and gave the driver an address two streets away from his flat.  He did a quick shop at the all night supermarket down the road before going home and sleeping for another fourteen hours straight.

He awoke the following afternoon aching all over.  After a light breakfast and several extremely welcome cups of coffee he put on his running gear and jogged the three miles to his favourite health club.  There he went straight to the pool and swam for over an hour.  The steady exercise helped to ease his aching muscles and clear his head before he slowly jogged back home.  As he came back in through his front door his phone vibrated.  It was a text message from M.

_ \- Still waiting for you to check in – _

“I’ll bet you are.” James commented.

Just to show M he was not a trained dog to be summoned at will, he took a shower and made himself a sandwich.  Once he had washed up and made himself another coffee he sat down and dialled M’s office.

_ “Baker.” _

James frowned.  Nathan Baker was one of Tanner’s staff in Operations.  He must have been covering for Moneypenny if he was fielding M’s calls.  It was strange, she hadn’t said anything about going on holiday when he’d spoken to her a couple of days previously. 

“It’s Bond.  Where’s Eve?”

_ “Miss Moneypenny is off sick Sir.  Apparently she was discharged this morning but she won’t be back in for a couple of weeks.” _

“Christ, is she okay?  What happened?”

_ “There was a terrible car accident right outside the building last Friday night Sir.  Several members of staff were injured.  Devon and Schafernaker from accounts.  One of the chaps from IT…” _

James’s mouth went dry and he had to swallow hard before he could speak.

“Who… who was the man from IT?”

_ “Not sure.  I don’t know him.  I think he’s a friend of Moneypenny’s.  He’s called ‘Hunt’ or something.” _

“Holt.”  James said, feeling his gut twist with fear as he gripped his mobile tight.  “His name is Thomas Holt.”

_ “That’s him Sir.  Do you want me to transfer you to M now?  He’s not…” _

James hung up, cutting the man off mid-sentence.  He dialled Q’s personal mobile, praying that he would pick up.  The call was answered and James’s heart leapt when he heard Q’s voice only for it to come crashing down again when he realised he was listening to a recording.

_ “Hello!  I’m sorry I can’t speak to you right now as I’m probably off doing something waaaayy more interesting than answering the phone.  Leave a message and I’ll get back to you!” _

There was a short automated message telling him he could re-record his message by pressing three and then a beep.  James started to pace as he waited to speak.

“Q. Sweetheart.  I know… I know I shouldn’t be ringing you… I know I promised your brother I would stay away from you but I just heard about the accident.”  He dragged his fingers through his hair.  “Please, I’m begging you.  Please just let me know that you’re OK.”  He paused for a moment, wondering what else he should say.  There was only one thing he could think of.  “I love you.”

He hung up and then dialled again.  Eve’s personal mobile went straight to voicemail too.  Without bothering to leave a message he hung up and shoved his phone in his pocket.  Grabbing his wallet and keys he ran out of the house.  He pulled up outside Eve’s house twenty minutes later and raced up to the front door.  He hammered on it and was surprised to see Tanner open it.  He nodded at Bill and asked where Eve was.

“She’s in here mate.  We thought you might turn up.”

He went into the front room where Eve was ensconced on the sofa.  She looked completely different to her usual impeccably groomed self.  She was wearing a pair of jogging bottoms and a loose t-shirt.  Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail which highlighted the bruising on the side of her face.  Her left arm was scraped and bruised and her right arm was wrapped in a heavy cast.  James dropped to his knees besides her and kissed her cheek tenderly.

“James.  You heard.  I wanted to ring you but I haven’t had a chance to go and get a new phone yet.  My old one was trashed in the accident.”

“Oh darling it’s okay.  Baker filled me in.  How are you feeling?”

“Oh, I’m fine.” She said tiredly.  “A broken wrist and a few cuts and bruises.  It was Q…” She sniffed and she looked as if she was trying not to cry.  “I saw what was going to happen and I tried to pull him out of the way of the car but I wasn’t quick enough.  The car clipped him and he went straight over the bonnet.  He wouldn’t wake up…  I’m so sorry James.”

She started to cry.

“Don’t Eve.”  He soothed, slipping his arms around her and carefully easing her into a hug.  “Please don’t.  You saved his life.  Being clipped by a car is so much better than being hit straight on.  You did a wonderful thing.  Please don’t blame yourself.”  He reached up and tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

Tanner came in with a tray carrying three mugs which he set down onto the coffee table.  He sat down by Eve’s feet at the other end of the sofa and started to absently rub her ankle.

“I spoke to Doctor Conroy in Medical this morning when I was picking up Eve.” Bill said, “Because the accident happened right on the doorstep of MI6, Medical have dealt with all the casualties themselves.  Q was in one of the intensive care rooms, he was unconscious all weekend but started showing signs of improvement yesterday evening.  They had arranged for an orthopaedic surgeon from one of the big hospitals to come in and operate on his leg today.  His right femur was broken close to the knee.  They were planning on pinning it but it’ll be a long rehabilitation for him.

“Jesus Christ.”  James said as he sat back on his heels and ran his hand over his mouth. “I need to see him.”

“I thought you might say that.” Tanner said.  “During my conversation with Conroy, I tried to explain your relationship with Q.  She said that as you are neither a close family member nor a spouse you are absolutely not authorised to visit him.  She also asked me to tell you that she is covering the night shift all this week and that the nurse on duty responsible for Q goes on his break at eleven o’clock.”

James smiled. 

“Good old Susan.”

He picked up his coffee and took a sip.  Eve had regained some of her composure and she looked at Bill.  He cocked his head and nodded towards James.  She smiled as she spoke.

“You have a few hours.  Will you stay with us and have dinner before you go and see Q?  Billy is a wonderful cook.”

“Quite the little house-husband, eh?” James quipped, smiling to himself when they glanced at each other again.  He wondered how they’d managed to keep what was obviously so loving a relationship so quiet at work.   “I’d love to stay.”

 

Medical was quiet when he arrived.  There was a patient information whiteboard behind the unmanned main reception desk which he scanned quickly.  There were only three patients logged.  They were the three that Baker had mentioned.  Devon and Schafernaker were sharing a general ward room, Q was on his own in intensive care.  Making a note of the room number he crept down the hall.  He slipped into the room and found Conroy sitting next to Q’s bed reading a book.  She glanced up, completely unsurprised to see him.

His eyes were drawn to the still figure in the bed.  Q’s face looked largely unharmed except for the bruise darkening his left temple.  His chest was unmarked but his arms were scratched and bruised much as Eve’s had been and a large temporary cast covered his right leg from his foot all the way up to his groin.  A bed sheet had been thrown over him but James could see he was naked under it.  James sat down opposite Conroy and gently smoothed the sheet down so that he couldn’t see his bare hip any more.  He picked up his hand.

“How is he?”

Conroy put down her book.

“He had severe concussion when he came in, multiple contusions and a badly broken leg.  He was lucid this morning so he was able to go into surgery this afternoon.  He’s been a little slow to come out of the anaesthetic but we’re not too worried, we’ll keep a close eye on him.  He’s going to feel sore when he wakes up though, poor lad.”

“Do they know who was responsible?”

“An elderly man.  Early theory is that he had a heart attack and lost control of the vehicle.  He was dead by the time we got to him.”

“So it really was just an accident…”  James mused.  He lifted Q’s lifeless hand and kissed the pads of his fingers.  He glanced up to see Conroy watching him.  “We were together for six months and I made a huge mistake which ended it.”  He said regretfully.  “I don’t know that he’s ever going to forgive me but I’d like to make it up to him if I can.  I still love him.  Please let me know if I can do anything to help.  Please let him know that.  I realise he probably doesn’t want to see me but I want to help if I can. ”

Conroy nodded and stood up.

“I will.  I’ll tell him you were here.  Look, I need to check on my other patients.  The nurse assigned to Thomas will be back off his break at midnight.  If you’re gone by the time he comes back he won’t have to report you for being here without clearance.”

“Thank you.”  He waited for her to leave and then kissed Q’s fingers again before laying them on his cheek and holding them there.  “I’m so sorry darling.  I am so  _ so _ sorry.  I was such an idiot.  I hope that one day you can forgive me for that.”  He kissed Q’s palm and then sat quietly, watching his unconscious face.  After the longest time he started to speak again.

“I was never supposed to see you again after Glastonbury.”  He said quietly.  “I had no intention of us being anything but a casual fuck.  That’s why I didn’t give you my real name.  I thought it would be a one night thing.  That I would slip out of your tent in the morning without seeing you again.  Then I woke up with you in my arms and I was greedy.  I wanted more time with you.  Just a little bit more.  Just until the end of the festival.  When we got to that Monday morning and you said you had to go I should have given you a fake mobile number when you asked.  I did, in fact.  Do you remember?  I wrote down a number and then screwed up the piece of paper when you tried to take it from me.  I said I’d just changed my phone and had a new number.  That I’d accidentally given you my old one.  It wasn’t that at all.  It was because at the last minute I couldn’t bear the thought of not seeing you again.”

“I should have told you the truth.  I could have at any time.  Maybe the first time we met up after we got back to London.  Maybe before I made love to you for the first time in my own bed.  Or when I came home with that bullet wound.  I could have done it at any point and I didn’t because I was a fool and a coward and I didn’t think you’d want James Bond, the hired killer.  Why would you want him when you had Richard Sterling, the man who spends his life helping charities and people in need?”

He reached out and gently stroked Q’s cheek with the backs of his knuckles.  His skin felt so soft against James’s rough hand.  James fell silent as emotion overwhelmed him.  He turned his face into Q’s hand again and stifled a sob.  After Vesper he hadn’t been sure he would ever be capable of ever falling in love again but then Q had come along and James had managed to screw up what they had royally.

“I’m going to try to help Danny.  I hope I can.  I hope I can show you that there’s some good in me.  I want to show you that I’m not....”  Words failed him as he looked at the clock hanging besides Q’s bed.  It was time to go.  He stood up regretfully and kissed Q’s brow.  “I love you Thomas Holt, with everything that I am.  I never lied about that.  I don’t deserve your forgiveness but just I wanted you to know that.”

Wishing he could stay until Q woke up, just to see he was OK, James crept out of the room.

 

~00Q~

 

Q hated hospitals.  He really hated them.  The clinical lack of colour.  The smell of cleaning agents and antiseptic.  The constant prodding and poking.  Less than two days after his operation he was ready to go home.  This was a view that Doctor Conroy didn’t share and she refused to let him out for almost a week.  Eventually his pleading worked and she grudgingly released him into the care of his brother.

It was only as he let himself in through his front door that he admitted to himself that he might have been a little hasty.  He could barely manoeuvre himself on his crutches for a start.  He ached all over from the impact of the accident and the following days lying in bed.  His biggest mistake, he suspected, was that he’d neglected to tell Conroy that Danny had called and said he was stuck in Ireland.  He wouldn’t actually be there to look after Q until the next morning.  He mentally shrugged as he slowly made his way through to the bedroom, his bag of painkillers swinging from one hand.  Everything in the flat was on one level.  How difficult could it be?

Q went through to the bedroom and carefully laid down.  He would have liked a cup of tea but it seemed like too much effort to make himself one.  Instead he closed his eyes and let himself drift off to sleep…

He woke up a couple of hours later and groaned as he shifted.  His leg, which had been aching, was pounding with pain now.  He clumsily sat up and looked at the clock.  It was fine.  Danny was due first thing in the morning and it was almost seven now.  Only twelve hours or so until his brother would be there to look after him.  He’d dumped the medication that Conroy had given him onto the bed besides him and he fumbled out the codeine.  He checked the dosage and popped a couple of tablets out of their blister pack.  He didn’t have a drink to hand so he swallowed them dry.  It would be okay, he thought.  He could give the tablets a few minutes to work and then get himself something to eat.  He laid back again, trying to ignore the feeling that the tablets hadn’t gone down very well.

He lasted less than twenty minutes before the feeling of indigestion that the pills had given him began to feel like nausea.  He scrambled to get up, grabbing his crutches and banging his cast as it slid off the bed.  He yelped in pain and then started the slow business of hobbling through to the bathroom.  He only got three quarters of the way there before he started to retch.  He struggled to not puke as he barged through the bathroom door.  Finally he was able to grip the bowl of the toilet and hurl up the contents of his stomach.  With no hint of finesse, his vomit spattered, only partially hitting the target.  He shuddered, the bile feeling like acid up the back of his throat.  He gagged again and tried to shift to better his aim when the crutch under his right arm suddenly slipped and he crashed down to the floor.

The pain in his leg was monstrous and for a second he was frozen, unable to even breathe in his agony.  Then the paralysis seemed to break and he started to pant.  Christ, but it hurt.  He sobbed as he reached for his crutches before realising the futility of the gesture.  There was no way he was going to be able to get back up onto his feet.  He rested his head on his arm and tried to think.  He couldn’t stay where he was.  Maybe he could just get back into bed.  He slowly started to drag himself back to his bedroom and then sobbed again as he looked up at his bed.  There was no way he could climb up to get himself back in.  He rested his head again.  He was so tired and his leg hurt so much.  He didn’t know what to do.  He couldn’t call Eve.  She been hurt too.  Danny couldn’t get to him any quicker…  He reached up and snagged his phone off the bedside table.

There was only one thing he could do.

Conroy had told him that James had visited him while he was unconscious and she’d passed on his message; he was willing to help if Q needed him.  More than that though, he’d heard the voicemail.  He’d heard the way James had pleaded for information.  Told him he loved him.  Hoping he wasn’t about to do something he would regret, and worried he would just throw up again if he tried to speak, Q quickly typed out a text message.

 

~00Q~

 

James sat in his kitchen eating his dinner and working his way through a rather nice bottle of red.  He’d been grounded for a few days and he couldn’t say that he minded.  He’d clocked up too many mission hours over the past couple of weeks for him to be sent out again any time soon.  Any national emergencies permitting of course.  He was debating opening a second bottle when his personal mobile rang.  He looked at the caller ID.  It was a blocked number.

“Yes?”

_ “You never received this phone call.”  _ Felix Leiter said without preamble. _  “I did not speak to you and the cell number you are about to be texted did not come from me.” _

“Cell number?  Whose?”

_ “Albert Tennyson.  English-born, currently working for the CIA as a programmer. He leads a team who are developing a groundbreaking lie-detection software.   Here’s the thing though.  Records show he received his US citizenship in 2014.” _

“So?”

_ “So there’s no record of Tennyson in the CIA’s or anyone else’s database prior to that date.” _

“A cover identity.”

_ “Give the man a gold star.  If my hunch is correct this is the guy you’re after and this makes us even.” _

He rang off after James thanked him.  James looked down at his phone.  A few seconds later he received a text which contained nothing but a phone number.  He went to the drawer by the sink and jotted the number down onto a piece of paper before clearing the text and the call log from his phone.  He slipped the paper into his wallet.  A second later his phone received another message.  He opened it.  It was from Q.

_ \- im at hom.  In trouble. cn you help me - _

He immediately sent back;

_ \- I’m on my way – _

and ran for his car.

 

James still had Q’s door key and he used it to let himself into his flat.  He’d tried to remain calm on the way over but wasn’t easy.  He wasn’t sure what was more alarming; the fact that Q was desperate enough to ask James for help in the first place or the terrible texting of his usually grammatically fastidious ex.  It showed that he wasn’t in control.  He wondered why Q hadn’t rung.  Perhaps he hadn’t been able to.  James called out into the flat but there was no answer.  Fighting a rising feeling of dread he crept towards the light at the end of the hallway.  The lights were on in the bathroom and the bedroom and he checked the former first.  It was empty but there was a pervading smell of vomit.  He wrinkled up his nose and went through to the bedroom.  He gave out a small sound of unhappiness when he found Q in there.  He was lying motionless on the floor by his bed, his mobile phone still clutched in his outstretched hand.  James knelt down beside him and smiled affectionately when he realised Q was snoring.  He carefully gathered him up into his arms.  He felt cold.  Q roused as he was moved and his eyes fluttered open.  He whimpered when he saw him.

“Oh sweetheart.” James soothed.  “I’ve got you.  I’ve got you now.”

“James?”

“I’m going to pick you up.  Put you on the bed.”

James scooped him up, trying not to jostle his casted leg and carefully laid him on the bed.  Q seemed to wake up more fully.

“I tried to take some painkillers… they made me sick… my leg hurts so much… I fell in the bathroom… I think I made it worse...”

James gently positioned Q’s legs.

“I’ll bet.  Are you okay if I leave you here for a minute?  You’re not going to be sick again are you?”

Q’s eyes slid shut again as he shook his head.

“I don’t think so… there’s nothing left.” James went to straighten up but Q grabbed his wrist.  “James,” he said in a small voice, “I’m sorry… I didn’t have anyone else to ask…  I’m so sorry.  Danny was supposed to be looking after me but he won’t be here until the morning.”

James’s heart ached at Q’s words.  It was all so wrong and it was all his fault.  If he hadn’t lied… Q shouldn’t have to be sorry for asking him for help.  He did this.  James.  He fucked up so badly and now Q was suffering.  James fucked it all up with his stupid secrets.  He forced a smile.

“Shh.  It’s okay darling boy.  Just try to relax.”

He went into the kitchen and found half a loaf of bread in the fridge.  It was a little stale but he took out a couple of pieces and put them in the toaster.  He put the kettle on to boil and then went into the bathroom.  He grabbed a washcloth and wetted it before taking it and a towel back into the bedroom.  Putting them aside for a moment he carefully stripped Q’s t-shirt from him and tossed it aside.  He then wiped him down.  Q shivered at the cool cloth.

“Sorry sweetheart.  You smell terrible.”

Q cracked open an eye.

“Gee.  Thanks.” 

Smiling James dried him off and then rooted through the chest of drawers to find him a fresh t-shirt which he helped him into.  Hearing the toast spring up he went back to the kitchen, telling Q he wouldn’t be long.  He came back in with a mug of weak black tea and a plate of toast lightly smeared in Marmite.  Sitting beside Q on the bed he eased him up into a seated position and shuffled in behind him so he could support him.  Q gasped at the movement and grasped at James’s leg.

“Easy.  Take it easy.  Lean on me for a moment.”

Q slumped back, his head resting on James’s shoulder.

“Hurts so much…”

“I know baby.  You haven’t successfully taken any painkillers since when?  This morning?”

“Lunchtime…”

“Okay.  Here’s what’s going to happen.  I’ve made you some toast and I’d like you to eat a little bit of it.  Drink some tea.  Then we’ll try you on the painkillers again.”

“They made me sick.”

“That’s probably because your stomach was empty.  Take it from me, it’ll be better this time.”

“The voice of experience…” Q muttered as James handed him a piece of the toast.

“I’ve had my share of injuries.  It’s not easy to cope with pain when you’re on your own.”  He kissed the side of Q’s temple.  “Now shut the fuck up and eat your toast.  I cut it up into soldiers for you especially.”

Q huffed out a quiet laugh and started to nibble on the toast.  After a few minutes of quiet chewing James handed him a couple of tablets and the tea to wash them down with.  After Q had managed to finish most of the toast and tea James held him in silence until he started to drowse, unwilling to move him again until the painkillers had kicked in.  When he finally laid him down again and smoothed the duvet over him Q roused a little.

“Will you stay?”

“Yes, until your brother gets here.”

“No,” Q said, “I mean… after that.  I’ve missed you so much… I think… I think I might have made a mistake.  I should have let you explain.  I didn’t give you a chance…”

James caught up his hand, much as he had in Medical, and kissed his fingers.

“Oh darling.  I was such a fool.  I hurt you so badly.  I’m a coward.  I was a coward then not to tell who I really was and I’m still a coward now.”

“James?”

He stroked a stray curl back off Q’s forehead. 

“I don’t want you to...  You’re not feeling yourself.  You might think that you want me around but if you start to feel better and realise that you don’t after all…”  He shook his head. “I don’t think I could bear it.”

“I wouldn’t change my mind.  Please James.  Please just stay and talk to me.”

James smiled even though he felt a wave of sadness.  Just looking at Q made his heart feel like it was going to burst.  Ever since the day Q found out who he really was he’d wanted to explain to him.  Tell him why he did what he did but now they were together he realised Q didn’t deserve to have to put up with him.  Knowing that every time he went away there was a chance he might sleep with someone else… or not come home again.  He leaned over and kissed Q on the lips softly.  He wasn’t the man Q thought he was.  He was a fool to think he could ever pretend to be.

“Go to sleep darling.  We’ll talk about this later.”

Q reached up and stroked his face.

“I just missed you so much.”  He said again, tears springing into his eyes.  “Despite everything.” He took a shaky breath and turned his head to one side.  In minutes he was asleep. 

James sat with him for a while and then he cleared up, putting Q’s soiled clothing in the wash basket in the corner of his room and taking his plate and mug into the kitchen.  He then went and cleaned up his bathroom.  When everything was sorted out he looked in on Q again.  He was sleeping soundly.  James hesitated in the doorway.  He wanted so badly to go back into the room.  To curl up beside him and hold him close. Instead he went into the kitchen and made himself a cup of coffee.

He was still sitting at the kitchen table when he heard a key in the front door.  Glancing at his watch he saw it was almost eight o’clock.  He heard Danny shout;

“Hey Tomma!  You awake?”

He stood up and walked to the hallway where Danny was in the process of dumping his bag.

“Keep your voice down.  He’s asleep.”

Danny scowled at him.

“What the fuck are you doing here?”  He demanded in a low voice.

“Doing what you should have.” James spat back.  “Looking after him.  Where the fuck were you?”

“The van broke down and we missed the ferry.” He said, pushing past him into the kitchen.

“And that took you a week did it?”

“What? No.  Don’t be thick.”

“Then don’t start on me for being here when his accident was over a week ago!  He needed someone to be here for him and you could have made a bit more of a fucking effort to get here sooner.  Maybe that way I wouldn’t have found him collapsed on the floor covered in his own puke last night!”

For a split second he felt a savage delight at the look on Danny’s face as all the fight left the younger man.  With a low moan of distress he dashed through to the bedroom.  James followed to see Danny on his knees beside the bed.  Q was still sleeping as his brother stroked his hair.

“Oh Tomma.”  He kissed his forehead gently.

“Leave him for a bit.” James said quietly.  “He’s due more painkillers in an hour or so.  He’ll most likely wake up soon anyway and he’ll be in pain when he does.”  Danny looked up at him and regretfully left his brother’s side. “He fell and knocked his leg last night.  If it’s still giving him problems after taking another dose of his painkillers you might want to get the doctors at MI6 to check him over.  He needs to eat with every dose by the way or you’ll have him puking again.”

James went through to the kitchen and picked up his phone, car keys and wallet.

“You’re leaving already?”

“You don’t need me here.” James said. “You can take care of him now.”  He walked to the front door and paused.  Reaching into his wallet he took out the slip of paper.  He dropped his head as he carefully selected his words. “I meant what I said.  That night after he found out.  I love your brother.  I know you might struggle to understand that.”

“So why are you running out on him?”

“I’m not… It’s not...” He stared at the piece of paper.  “I’m not an idiot… Well, I am but not a total one.  I’ve come to realise that I might not be what your brother needs.” He handed the paper to Danny who took it with a confused look on his face.  “We’re not all as bad as you think though.  We do sometimes try to look out for the little people, believe it or not.  I know that you don’t trust spies and why should you?  After the way you were treated.  I’m sorry but I looked into what happened to you.”

Danny was staring at him.

“What do you mean?”

James gestured to the piece of paper.

“The project that your boyfriend was working on.  They shut it down after he died but almost straight afterwards the CIA continued the work.  That number.  It belongs to the Englishman heading the CIA’s research.  A man who didn’t exist before 2014.”

Danny looked down at the paper.  His hand started to tremble.

“What…” He throat caught and he coughed nervously. “…what does this mean?”

“If I’m right, I think it means that Alex Turner is still alive.”

Danny’s breath seemed to catch and he suddenly glared at James, tears springing into his eyes.

“Don’t say that!” He spat.  “He wouldn’t have let me think he was dead!  He wouldn’t have left me…” His breath hitched and his shoulders slumped.  “Why… why would he have left me?” He asked in a small voice.

“I don’t know the full story.” James said gently.  “But the thing he was working on was groundbreaking.  If the work had been threatened… if he had been… Danny.  He might not even know that you’re still alive.  Think about it.  They wanted to spirit him away.  Give him a new identity.  If he’d refused to go without you they might not have been prepared to relocate him with a boyfriend he’d been with for less than a year.  They made you think he was dead.  How easy would it have been to make him think the same thing of you?” 

Tears spilled over and Danny covered his mouth as a soft cry escaped him.

“Why?”  He asked. “Why did you do all this for me?  Is this so you can get back with Tom?”

James shook his head sadly.

“I love your brother.  I don’t think I’ve ever been with anyone like him.  But I’m not the man he thought I was.  I’m not sure he could ever love me as I really am.  Ever truly love the real me.  I did this simply because Q adores you and because at least one of you deserves to be happy.  Make the phone call.  See if I was right about the number belonging to Alex.”

He turned and left Danny crying over the piece of paper in his hand.

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

James didn’t hear anything from Q for the rest of the week and he tried not to spend every waking minute worrying about him.  He wasn’t completely successful.  He knew that Danny was taking care of him and with regular painkillers Q would have been dopey for a lot of the time, too busy sleeping and healing to worry about James.  James had seen the way they affected him and it wasn’t a bad thing, sleep was a great healer.  But he constantly questioned his decision to leave.  Logically he knew it was for the best.  What the hell had he been thinking anyway?  Falling in love with Q.  How did he ever think it would end well?  He was James fucking Bond.  Things never ended well for him or the people he loved.  No.  His fantasy of having such a happy home life was just that – a fantasy.  That had been proven to him the moment Q had realised who he really was.  He would never forget the look of horror and disgust on his face… No.  James resolved to make sure he stayed away from him and if Q had any sense he would forget all about James.

For all his resolutions, James did cave in to his curiosity on the second day and he rang Conroy to see if Q had been in touch.  She’d loudly scolded him for prying into the private medical matters of other employees before quietly telling him that she’d seen him the previous day, checked him over and he was fine.  James thanked her, guessing she’d ducked into a side-room to surreptitiously give him the news.

By the following Monday he was climbing the walls, torn between his usual boredom and the desire to know how Q was doing.  He wondered if he should go to see him one last time to break things off properly but he knew that the temptation to stay with him would be too great so instead he went to see M to inform him that he felt quite rested and was ready to be sent out again.  As it happened there had been a coup in a small Balkan state that weekend that had been as totally unexpected as it had been suspiciously bloodless.  MI6, along with other agencies, suspected an outside influence and James was duly dispatched to investigate.

 

~00Q~

 

The cast came off after six weeks and the first thing Q did was have a long hot bath.  His leg was still painful and it looked as though his knee would require  intensive physio and hydrotherapy for several months but Medical’s Head of Surgery Kressler was confident it would recover.   _You might have to give up your promising football career,_ he’d joked _, but you’ll eventually lose the limp._ Q had been working from home on various programming projects for R&D for several weeks after his new team leader, an officious man named Nelson, had come to visit him but eight weeks after the accident he was finally allowed to join his new colleagues properly in the facility in Westminster.

He’d felt a little shy limping into the department on his first day, leaning heavily on a single crutch with a small box of his possessions under his arm. That had lasted less than a minute before a jolly middle-aged woman who reminded him very much of his mum had made a beeline for him, welcoming him and showing him to his desk.  She’d spotted the Scrabble ‘Q’ mug Danny had bought him as a ‘good luck in your new job’ gift and immediately shown him where the tea making area was so she could fill it for him.  She’d laughed when he explained that Q was his nickname from back when he was a toddler unable to say ‘thank you’ properly.  For over a year he’d apparently just shouted ‘ _Q!_ ’ whenever he was given something.  He then found out that the lady who was so friendly was known by a letter too, albeit for completely different reasons.  Her name was Vanessa Collins and she was known as ‘R’.  She was Boothroyd’s second in command, responsible for the whole of R&D’s computer division.

He settled in quickly, finishing all the projects given to him rapidly and efficiently.  After two weeks R called him into her office saying there was a problem with his work.   _You’re just too damn quick.  You’re completing your work in half the time of the other programmers.  Usually I like to leave new recruits in a role for at least a month before I make any changes to their workload but if you’re willing I’d like to try you on something.  Something’s come up…_  She’d then taken him to a large room filled with a dozen computer terminals each with operators typing furiously on them.   _Someone’s trying to breach our firewalls.  I want you to lead the team’s efforts in stopping them._  Q felt a flush of excitement as he was led to the main terminal in the centre of the room.  He quickly scanned the rolling codes on the screen and without taking his eyes of them, started to type, calling out polite requests to the other operators as he needed.

Within seventeen minutes he’d eliminated the threat.  R seemed surprised he’d managed it so quickly and so calmly, especially as she’d loomed over his shoulder the whole time.   _It was quite simple,_ he’d responded, _there was a gaping hole in your protocols and if you really wanted me to think this was actually a live situation and not a simulation, you really should find a way to disguise the nexus code that keeps appearing in the cascade…_

She’d laughed and just like that he was promoted again.

And then he reprogrammed the simulation for her.

 

It was well after seven in the evening when Q’s private mobile chirruped.  He put down the documents he’d been studying and looked at the time in surprise.  It was much later than he’d realised.  And his tea was cold.  With a sigh he leaned back in his chair to read the text.  It was from Moneypenny.

_~You and me.  Dinner.  Table’s booked.  I’m outside.~_

With a smile he started to shut down his computers.  He hadn’t seen Eve in the longest time and it would be nice to see her again.  He’d been so busy he’d had to cancel several of their ‘dates’ over the past months.  He packed his satchel and grabbed his walking stick before clumsily getting to his feet.  His knee was much better now but it still stiffened up if he sat for too long.  He slowly hobbled to the exit, leaning heavily on his cane and giving the joint time to get used to moving again.  By the time he saw Eve standing outside the main doors waiting for him, his lurch had gone, replaced by a slight limp.  Her own cast had long gone and the only difference to her appearance now was the modest engagement ring on her finger.   _I think my accident shook Bill up,_ she’d told Q during one of their gossipy late-night telephone conversations, _so he popped the question._ He was glad for them.  They were perfect for each other.

“Hello sexy man.” She smiled as he hugged her and kissed her cheek.

“Hello Moneypants.  Fancy seeing you here.  You do know this is a top secret facility, don’t you?  Only select non-R&D staff are authorised to know where we are.  Have you been snooping through M’s stuff again?”

She grinned wickedly.

“Perks of the job.”  Her face fell.  “Actually, that’s why I wanted to see you.”

“Oh?”

“I’ll tell you at dinner.  Look at you!  You look half-starved.  Don’t they feed you in there…?”

He slipped his arm around her, partially out of affection and partly to help support himself.  He smiled as he listened to her chatter as they walked to the underground station.

Twenty minutes later they were in their favourite Greek restaurant and their orders had been placed.  It was half-empty and they were sat away from the rest of the customers.  Q had been telling her about his latest project but he suddenly stopped when he saw she looked distracted.

“What’s the matter darling?”

She sighed.

“I'm not sure there's an easy way for me to say this so I'll just come straight out with it; it’s James.  He’s been captured.”

Q wasn’t sure what he was expecting to hear but he was pretty sure it wasn’t that.  He froze for a moment as Eve carried on talking.

“He was in Dubai.  He’d been there earlier in the year on an unrelated matter and when he went back on his current mission he was recognised.  The group he was trying to infiltrate were tipped off and they took him.  They demanded a ransom and threatened to kill him if they weren’t paid.”

Q clenched his jaw and took in a deep breath.

“And the British Government doesn't negotiate with terrorists.”  He finished for her.  “Surely this is all classified?  Why are you telling me?  We broke up remember?”

“For fuck’s sake Q!” Eve said, suddenly angry, “I swear you two are the biggest couple of arseholes I’ve ever met!  You were so happy with him!  How many times did I sit in this very restaurant listening to you tell me how wonderful he was?  How loving?  And look how bloody miserable you’ve both been since you stopped seeing each other!  I’m telling you because I thought you should know that the man you love is in danger because you’re the closest thing he’s ever had to a next-of-kin.  No-one else in that fucking building seem to give a shit about the fact that he might die.  They keep talking about the fucking ‘asset’ when he’s not an asset he’s the man who adores you and you adore and you were were both too stubborn to fucking well sort it out and now it might be too late and it breaks my fucking heart!”

He watched as she picked up her wineglass and downed the contents in a single draft.  When she grabbed the bottle to refill it he saw her hand was trembling.  He suddenly remembered to close his mouth which had apparently hung open at her tirade.  He opened it again to speak but she cut him off, dropping the bottle back down onto the table heavily.

“I just… I’ve known him for so long Q.  He was always so cold… formal, and then he started to, I don’t know, warm up.  He was happier.  He smiled more.  I would ask him if he’d met a special lady and he’d laugh and tell me I was the only special lady in his life but I could tell he was covering something up… oh God Q.  If only I’d known it was you.”

“None of this is your fault.”

“But it is!”  She retorted. “Because now, just a few months later, I tell you that he might die and you act like you don't know why you should care!”

Q felt like he’d been slapped.

“No… I only meant… Eve, I haven’t stopped loving him.”  He took her hand between both of his.  Now he’d said it once it seemed easier to say again.  And to admit to himself.  “I still love him.  I do.  But he told Danny he thought he should stay away from me and I thought it was what he wanted and…”

Eve snorted inelegantly.

“Like I said.  Arseholes.  You never even talked to each other?”  Her tone was mocking but she smiled as she said it.  “Oh, you utter berks.”

“It’s not like I can do much about it now though, is it?”  Q said sadly.  Eve squeezed Q’s hand.

“You might be able to.  The one disadvantage of you never getting to know the real 007 is that you never discovered what his favourite hobby was.”

“And what’s that?”  Q asked.

“Resurrection.”

 

~00Q~

 

It was the nature of the business that the smallest missions could sometimes lead to bigger things.  And go badly wrong.

A tip-off had led James to Switzerland to look into a possible connection to SPECTRE.  A chance encounter led to ten weeks of travel and further investigations.  It wasn’t the longest mission he’d ever been on but it resulted in his capture and torture by a cell in Dubai.  He was there for weeks, holding out against daily torture and trying to glean information from his captors.  When the ransom demand was refused he barely escaped with his life, fighting his way out and running before spending ten days in hospital in Saudi Arabia before he was able to fly back to England.  The most frustrating thing was that it had all been for nothing.  The only SPECTRE agent James had been able to positively identify was killed before he could even report his findings.

It was past midnight when James finally walked back in through his front door.  He was happy to be home but he immediately tensed up.  Despite not being there for so long, he knew instinctively that something wasn’t quite right.  He drew his gun and stalked into the lounge where he could see the light was on.  Q was in there, curled up in the overstuffed antique chair by the window with a book in his lap.  When they’d been together it had been his favourite spot.  His left foot was tucked under him but his right leg stuck out stiffly.  A walking stick leant up against the bookshelf beside him.  He looked up and smiled.

“There you are.”  He said softly.

“What are you doing here Q?”  James asked tiredly.

“Moneypenny told me you were back.”

James nodded and went to the liquor cabinet.  He poured himself a large scotch and downed it.

“My brother is in Washington.”  Q said.  For a second James was confused.  Sleep deprivation and his battered body made it difficult to think.  Q stood up and James could see the way he put most of his weight on his good leg. “I had thought I might use my savings to travel myself.  See a bit of the world.   I ended up sorting out Danny his visa and a plane ticket.”  James suddenly realised what he meant.

“He rang the number.  It _was_ Alex.”

“It took him the longest time to pluck up the courage to ring it.  Have you any idea what you’ve done for him?  For them?”

Q awkwardly limped over to him and put his arms around James’s neck.  James placed his hands on Q’s hips as he wound his fingers up through his hair and kissed him gently.  James sighed as he felt Q’s tongue lick over his lips.

“We… I don’t think we should.” He said regretfully.

“Well I do.”  Q said sweetly, tilting his head.  “I was so angry with you.  So furious.  I didn’t give you a chance to explain.  I avoided you.  Even changed my job so I wouldn’t have to see you.  I was so sure that you’d lied to me…”

“I did lie to you…”

“You didn’t tell me your name or what you did for a living but that was just details.”  James must have looked confused again so Q elaborated.  “I thought that the thing that we had and the love you had for me was a lie.  I thought you’d cheated on me and I refused to believe that you’d changed but you did, didn’t you?  You stopped seducing people in the field because you’d met me.”

“Tom…”

James shook his head.  He was so tired and Q’s words felt like they were flaying him open, exposing him.  He tried to move away but then Q wobbled, obviously off-balance on his damaged leg and James wrapped his arms around him, unwilling to let him fall.

“I thought it was all over but then the message you left me when you found out I’d been hurt… it was so full of concern.  When I called you and you came within minutes… when you took care of me so tenderly… I realised that I was seeing the real you.  I realised that you might have this whole other life that I knew nothing about but that you were also mine.  You loved me and I realised that no matter how much anger I might have felt, I still loved you. It broke my heart to think that I’d driven you away.  Every day my heart has been breaking a little bit more because we’ve been apart.  It took me almost losing you completely to realise that.”  

“Q.”  James kissed him, feeling stripped bare.  “Please don’t do this.  I’ll only hurt you again.   I don’t deserve you.  I should never have…”

Q cut him off with another slower, deeper kiss.  When they broke apart his lips looks ruddy, just the way James had dreamed about them during his long painful nights in captivity.  He smiled then and James was struck, much as he had the first time he saw him dancing, by how beautiful he was.

“That’s where you’re wrong.  You deserve me because I want you to.  Because I still love you, _James Bond_ and I know that you love me.”

It was too much.  James felt something loosen in his chest and he suddenly pulled Q into a hug.  Emotions warred inside him.  The last few weeks had been hellish and now to come home to this.  To him.  He buried his face in the side of his neck and held him close.

 

~00Q~

 

A blue light bathed Q’s vision as he awoke to the sound of someone yelling about ‘butt scratchers’.  Whether the man wanted one or was offering his services Q wasn’t sure but that was one of the great things about the Glastonbury festival, you never knew quite what was going to happen next.  As a chorus of people shouting _butt scratcher!_  in response began to crop up from various spots around their camp site Q huffed out a laugh and snuggled into James’s arms.

“I’ll scratch his arse for him if he doesn’t shut up in a minute…”  James grumbled without opening his eyes.

“Grumpy.”  Q commented as he unzipped his side of their double sleeping bag.  The sleeping pod on their side of the posh tent James had insisted in bringing with them that year was beginning to warm up.  It would be another half an hour before the sun hit it properly and made it unbearable though.  James cracked open an eye and hummed in approval as Q tossed off his covers, revealing his naked body.

“Now there’s a butt worth scratching.”  He commented.  He scooted down the bed and began to playfully run his nails over Q’s buttocks before covering them in wet kisses.  Q wriggled and giggled as he buried his face in his pillow.  Jesus but it was perfect.  He tried not to dwell on the past but he came so close to losing this.  To losing this wonderful man who adored him and had made it his mission in life to prove it to Q in every way ever since they’d got back together.  They’d come back to the Glastonbury Festival to celebrate the two years since they’d first met.  It hadn’t been an easy two years but it had been so worth it in the end.

“Fuck…” Q hissed.

“Patience… I’m getting around to that.”

James started to kiss him again and Q panted trying not to make too much noise.  He was aware of the fact that his neighbours were extremely close and that tents were terrible at muffling sound.  James got onto his knees and started to attack his arse in earnest, settling between Q’s thighs to spread his cheeks with his big hands and lick into him. Q began to move his hips, pushing up into James’s insistent tongue until James reached between his legs and wrapped his hand around his cock.  He squeezed gently, simultaneously holding him still and adding to the sensations deliciously.  Q whined and began to sweat from the stimulation.  He wasn’t sure if it was the tent warming up early or it was the fact that he was so turned on.  He spread his legs further and James chuckled before crawling up over him.  There was a pause before he felt the blunt head of James’s slick cock press up against his hole.  Q pushed up onto his elbows and groped behind himself with a shaking hand.  He caught James’s head and tugged him down into a sloppy, uncoordinated kiss.

“Please.”  He whispered.

“You want my cock?”  James murmured directly into his ear.  “Like this?”  He shifted his hips and Q whined again as he was breached.  He fell face first onto the bedding.  James followed, curling over him to press his chest against Q’s back and whisper in his ear as he pushed in deeper.  “Just like this beautiful boy?  Spread out?  Pinned?”  Q nodded at his lover’s words.  “Held open by my thighs?”  James flexed his legs, forcing Q’s open further and proving his point.  Despite his head now spinning with need he noticed the way James had pushed harder on his good leg, taking care with the one that had been broken.  Q shuddered as James lightly gripped his wrists, pinning them either side of his head.  “Anyone could hear us if I fucked you hard enough.  The slap of our bodies meeting every time I thrust my cock into you.  The suck of the lube.  I’m sure I could get you screaming.  The whole campsite would know you were taking my cock like a good boy…”  Q panted as James began to make love to him, so slowly and so deeply, at odds with his rough words.  The angle was perfect for the head of James’s cock to drag over Q’s prostate with every stroke.  He groaned and James released one of his wrists to place a gentle hand over his mouth. “Shhhh… quiet, little one.”  Q could only lie passively as James relentlessly worked his cock in and out of him. With his other hand James caught up Q’s hand and linked their fingers together. “So beautiful.”

Q tried to shift, to relieve the pressure on his own cock which was trapped under his belly, but James was too heavy and he whined.  He was utterly at his lover’s mercy and he wasn’t sure he’d ever felt anything so delicious.  It quickly became too much and with a quiet gasp Q came, unspooling messily onto the sleeping bag.  James didn’t stop though, rocking into him relentlessly, using Q’s body for his own pleasure until he dropped his head groaning, kissing the back of Q’s neck as he came a few minutes later.  For a moment time seemed to freeze.  Q was utterly boneless and overheated, come smearing his belly and filling his arse.  James seemed to be sticking to him, unmoving apart from his softening cock slowly slipping from his body.  He was an almost uncomfortably heavy weight now, panting breaths across Q’s ear and it was utterly perfect.  He curled his toes and squeezed James’s hand.

“I love you so much.” He mumbled.

“I love you too sweetheart.” James replied, kissing the back of his shoulder.

“I love you two twats as well but Alex is going to be back from getting our breakfast soon so you might want to stop playing with each other’s dicks.”  Danny’s voice was loud and came from just the outside the flap to their side of the shared tent.

“I told you we should have got two tents.” Q grumbled into his pillow.

“I heard that.” Danny bitched.

“You were supposed to!”  Q said loudly.  James chuckled as he stickily unpeeled himself from his back.

“Charming.”  Danny said as they heard him unzip the outer flap.  “ There he is now.  I can see Alex on his way back up the hill.  Put some pants on for fuck’s sake.”

 

~00Q~

 

James watched Q as he rolled over onto his back.  He linked his arms around James’s neck and smiled as he crawled over him to kiss him.  After a moment James knelt up and grabbed a packet of wet wipes.  He pulled a couple out and set about tenderly cleaning Q up.  Once he’d finished he leaned over to kiss his belly.

“Come on darling, let’s get up.”  He smacked his lips and frowned.  “Christ those things make you taste foul.”

Q laughed and then grabbed his brightly coloured trousers from where he’d tossed them the night before.  They were the same pair he’d been wearing the day they’d met and James loved them.  He especially loved the way Q never wore underpants with them.  After Q had stood up and put them on James ran his hand up his thigh and groped his balls playfully through them when he tried to leave.  Q giggled and grabbed James’s shoulder as he staggered.

“Down boy!”  He laughed.

James let go of him and grabbed another couple of wet wipes to clean himself up before slipping on his own shorts and t-shirt.  He followed Q outside.

Danny was sitting on a picnic blanket just outside the tent’s porch, basking in the early morning sun.  He was shirtless like Q and he grinned as Q plonked himself down beside him and slung his arm around his shoulder so he could plant a smacking kiss on his cheek.

“Morning bruv.”

James groaned as he sat down, obviously rearranging himself with the palm of his hand.

“Fucking hell you two.  Are you sure you never share?”

“You dirty old bastard.”  Danny commented, not looking up from the large spliff he was constructing from three regular sized cigarette papers.  Q burst out laughing.

“That’s exactly what I said the day we met!”

James grinned at them and then looked up and frowned.

“Alex, where the hell did you get a tray from?”

Alex smiled as he set the loaded tea tray down between them.

“The lady at the stall saw I had lots to carry so she said I could borrow it.”

James smiled at Alex.  He’d first met him a couple of months before when he’d come back to MI6 to work.  The Americans had found out that James had passed on his number to Danny and had complained to M about him exposing Alex’s cover identity.  M in turn had been furious to discover that Alex had been passed over to the Americans rather than protected properly by MI6.  He’d been even more furious when he’d discovered that the whole thing had been orchestrated behind the old M’s and Boothroyd’s backs by the head of MI6’s research program at the suggestion of his assistant Smith.  Both men had been reprimanded severely and reassigned to research facilities far away from London.

James liked Alex, he was a strange man, socially awkward and bookish, but the effect his return had had on Danny had been remarkable.   Q’s brother seemed to have had a constant smile on his face ever since he’d got back from America.  James watched as Alex doled out the food, handing James and Q a bacon butty each and taking one for himself.  Danny set his spliff to one side and smilingly took an enormous chocolate cookie, sprinkled with multi-coloured chocolate drops off him.  Alex leaned over and they kissed.  James smiled at the way Danny wiggled his shoulders contentedly as their lips touched.  He pulled away and bit into his cookie as Alex passed him a cup of coffee.  Q glanced at him over his own breakfast.

“I don’t know how you can eat shit like that for breakfast and not be a fat bastard.”  He commented.  Danny shrugged.

“Good genes?”

“We literally have the same genes Dan.”

“Well I can’t help it if you don’t take full advantage of them.”

James chuckled as the brothers started bitching at each other good-naturedly.  Alec passed James his coffee.

“They’re very different aren’t they?  Considering they look so alike.” Alex said quietly.

James smiled, watching the animated way Q was talking.

“They are.”  James said.

Alex suddenly looked shy.

“I never did thank you for what you did. Danny was the first man I ever loved.  The only one really.  It felt as though my life had ended the day they told me he had killed himself.”  James studied his face.  He looked so sad for a moment as he seemed to consider what he’d just said before shaking himself and smiling. “Thank you for finding me.  ”

“If I hadn’t lied to Q that might never have happened.”

“Then I’m glad you did.”  Alex said simply.

James nodded.  Life was unpredictable.  If he had told Q his real name when he first met him, Alex and Danny might never have got back together.  It was a strange thing to consider...

His thoughts were interrupted by Danny shoving Q and Q rolling over in gales of laughter.  James had no idea what had just been said but it filled him with joy to see how happy they were.  Q quickly got his revenge, getting back up to tackle Danny to the ground and tickle him mercilessly.  James bit into his breakfast, smiling at the brothers play fighting.  He glanced up at the blue sky and wondered if it would stay fine for them that day.  He had a feeling that it just might.

_~fin~_

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for making it this far!
> 
> As always, if you'd like to join me, I'm still doing my thing over at iambid.tumblr.com. Flailing over cute kitties, hot actors and men who, in all likelihood, are displaying a bit more flesh than their mothers would approve of.

**Author's Note:**

> All Glastonbury experiences mentioned in this fic have actually happened to me.
> 
> Apart from the diddling Q bit.
> 
> I wish.


End file.
